


To Make a Crown

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Genderbending, always a woman!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billa never gives away the Arkenstone, instead she gives the men of Laketown her share of the treasure. Little did she know that according to dwarven custom her actions would make her the legal wife of Thorin. And after he is injured in the Battle of Five Armies she ends up ruling as Queen Under the Mountain on his behalf<br/>fill for a kink-meme prompt</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Billa’s feet sank into the coins and sent tiny avalanches of silver and gold down the hill with each step. It was hard to keep her balance on the unstable pile and some of the bigger trinkets dug into her soles uncomfortably, nearly bordering on painful.

Nevertheless Billa kept on walking, kicking at the gold miserably and wishing for a nice cup of tea and maybe some cake by a warm fireside. She was sure that Erebor had _some_ sort of comfortable room where she and the dwarves could rest. Maybe they’d tell her stories of the kingdom’s glorious past, I would be so much better now that she had pictures to connect to the tales and she loved listening to the passionate descriptions.

Instead Thorin had insisted on all dwarves (and the Lady Burglar) to go looking for his precious Arkenstone. And so they did.

Looking over at the bigger piles of treasure that filled the enormous hall, Billa tried to see what her friends were doing. Bombur had left the group in order to prepare them a warm meal a while ago, and most of the other dwarves had slowed down the pace with which they were rummaging through the gold. She spotted Bofur and Nori pulling out random objects out of the pile and examining them and Glóin actually taking a nap on the gold, and judging by the sounds, Fíli and Kíli were engaged in a treasure-throwing match.

Thorin was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh Billa let herself slide down the pile, putting her out of the line of sight of the dwarves. While the others were more or less searching for the Arkenstone, Billa was just pretending to be looking in earnest. She had found that silly stone nearly immediately after they started the search; it was now hidden in her spare blankets and she hoped that nobody would accidentally stumble upon it there.

There was no real reason to keep the stone for her; sure it was a beautiful gem, entrancing in its play of colours and the way it shone in the light. A little part of Billa had wanted to keep it as part of her share, a much better price than the gold she had no use for in the amounts she had been promised.

But as soon as that thought had crossed her mind she had also imagined how Thorin’s face would look like when she brought it to him, how he would smile in the same way when she proved over and over again how valuable she was to the company, how it would melt into relief when everyone had just escaped some danger and he had reassured himself that the hobbit was all right, or the gentle and sweet expression he had when reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

He would certainly be much more pleased if it was her who brought him his grandfather’s precious stone rather than another member of the company. She couldn’t help but imagine how he would praise her for that final service she did for them, and for him especially. How he would craft her a beautiful silver chain to wear the Arkenstone around her neck, just like he had promised he would do with all the precious jewels of Erebor.

From the way Billa judged the progress of their relationship, she was quite sure that the Arkenstone would be hers to admire as she pleased anyway. So she had slipped it into her pocket, not wanting to present it just then while being tired and having ash and dirt all over her skirts.

Now she wished that she had given it to Thorin immediately instead of waiting for the ‘right moment’. At the moment there was hardly anything keeping her from just walking up to the king and shove the damn rock into his face, just to make him shut up about how important it was to find it. Because it really was not.

If Billa were queen or just someone the company would listen to instead of Thorin, she’d make them clean up the best rooms they could find and make them comfortable enough for them to rest after months of hardship. Then she’d ensure that they had food, plenty of it and good one for once. And after the comfort was ensured she’d go and make sure that the men of Laketown were well and offer them some of the treasure as a sign of gratitude. But she wasn’t and so all that she could do was to try and talk some sense into the dwarf.

The sudden clattering of metal and shuffling of feet made her look up. The ones who had stopped searching through the gold quickly returned to their task as Thorin strode through the trenches in the treasure. His face was clouded over with disgruntlement and he barely glanced over the other dwarves as he passed them. Nobody dared to return the stare and heads bowed away from him.

Just a few months back, Billa would have shrunken away and hidden herself from his glare to avoid falling victim to his constant criticism. But she had gained his respect and friendship over that time, and even his love. Thorin had told her so over and over, as he held her in his arms and kissed her in between promises of the home he’d hope Erebor would be to her and descriptions of gifts he would bring to her from the treasuries. He had allowed her to braid flowers into his hair in return, even as the company teased them good-natured. He had included Billa in the minuscule circle of people who had the right to criticise his actions and give him advise without fearing a rebuke.

Billa straightened her skirt, as she always did when mentally bracing herself for something unpleasant, and walked out into Thorin’s way.

He only stopped as he finally noticed her, having walked quite a bit from the other dwarves and nearly overlooking her entirely.

“Billa,” he said instead of the proper greeting one would expect of a lover, slightly raising his hand as if to take hers but deciding to not bother with it after all. “I didn’t see you here, I thought you were further back by the display of swords?” he asked, his eyes roaming over the gold behind her.

Billa huffed a bit. Thorin used to embrace her as a greeting, sometimes even kissing her in a way to say hello when he hadn’t shown enough affection just before or when he didn’t mind the others watching.

“Well indeed, I have been there. But that was yesterday! By now I have moved many piles further, remember? I asked you about some of the toys there.”

Thorin nodded but it was evident that his attention wasn’t on the conversation but on the glittering gold behind the hobbit; even now he was searching for the ruddy Arkenstone. Some of the other dwarves glanced up and Billa could see Bofur smiling at her compassionately. She could feel her cheeks heat up in annoyance about the rudeness and the embarrassment. This wasn’t even the first time Thorin had forgotten his manners like that in their company.

“Can I please have a word with you? Alone?” she asked and tilted her chin up. Before Thorin could reply, she grabbed his wrist and lead him away from the searching dwarves.

Thorin arms stiffened and for a moment Billa thought that he’d pull away, but he followed her without protesting. When she was sure that they had walked far enough that their voices wouldn’t carry over to the others, she released Thorin’s wrist and spun around to face him with a glare.

“What is on your mind that has to be kept between us? Did something happen?” he asked, and at least he was truly focused on her for the first time in _days_ , as Billa noted. It made some of her irritation drain away.

She sighed. “It’s… nothing urgent really. But I think there are some matters we all should deal with before we start going through the treasure. I understand that this is important to you, but tell our friends to move their attention to those…” she started to explain. Thorin had taken her hands into his while she talked and was rubbing slow circles over her skin.

“And which would that be?” he asked, his tone too light, as if he was amused by the little hobbit’s concerns, as he had always been when she had asked for things to be done in a way a hobbit would consider proper but a dwarf would just laugh off.

“Well.” Billa was not ready to let his belittlement stop her from telling him off. “For once, I am sure that we could all use some rest. Look at us; we haven’t even managed to find the time for cleaning the journey’s dirt from our clothes! And it has been days since we arrived! Some food wouldn’t do any harm either. I would also suggest that we go and either work on the front gate or the rooms we can restore on our own. Erebor will look so much nicer and be a comfortable place once we do that!”

Thorin laughed and the sound eased some of the worry that was on Billa’s mind. “Oh, my dear burglar. You truly are a grocer and a hobbit in your brave little heart.” He grasped her at the shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “I am sorry, I forgot how much your people value these things. But you must be patient a little longer. Once we find my grandfather’s stone I will personally ensure that you’ll want for nothing.”

Thorin’s arms wrapped around her, Billa was trapped in his embrace and she couldn’t help but lean closer, despite wanting to continue being angry about him. “Can’t that wait?” The search would be futile anyway. “Of course not, my burglar, the sooner the Arkenstone is returned to its place over the throne the better,” he replied and brushed a hand over her hair.

“And what of the gate? Surely it is not wise to have any weak points with so many sullen men waiting so close by?” she tried.

Thorin pushed her back a little without letting go to have a better look at her face.

“Are you worried about the men of Laketown coming to steal from us?”

“No… well. Yes! Yes I am. We are just fourteen and we are tired and they are so much taller than us! We wouldn’t stand a chance should too many manage to break in!”

Thorin shook his head slightly, eyes fixed on hers.

“We can fight to protect what is rightfully ours. They will not dare to intrude like this. And soon Dáin and the dwarves of the Iron Hills will be here to fight by our side. No part of this treasure will ever fall into their hands, I promise you. I will fight till my last and slay each and every one who should dare to come close to you and the gold or _anything_ that is mine!” he said, voice a low growl full of fervour.

Billa frowned at that, not sure whether to be mad at her lover’s stubborn foolishness or the way he talked of her as if she were a possession among the golden treasure, no matter how passionate it had sounded.

Not paying any mind to her expression, Thorin took a step back and sat down on the nearest pile of gold, not releasing his hold on Billa, which nearly made her fall over. She landed in his lap with a laugh and batted at his chest to make him let her stand up again. The dwarf chuckled softly and pulled her closer so that she was sitting upright across his legs. He pressed kisses to her cheek and nose as she giggled and brushed her fingers through his hair. It felt just like it should be, easy and comfortable, not like they were strangers yet again, as Billa had felt more and more in this past days.

Thorin turned his head away from her then, reaching for something behind him. Billa watched him pushing aside some goblets curiously until he closed his hand around something she couldn’t see. Then he turned back and grabbed some of Billa’s curls, braiding something golden into her hair.

“There,” he said when he was done and smiled as he looked at his work. “Now you really look like you do belong to a king, everyone who isn’t a complete fool will understand to keep their hands away from you.”

“What is it?” she asked.

Thorin started digging through the pile around him again without replying, pulling more things out of it, and Billa used the opportunity to feel for what he had tied to her hair. It was a delicate net of gold chains, with tiny sapphires worked into it. Even from what little the hobbit knew about these kinds of jewels, she could see that it was an incredibly precious object, something the daughters of the richer lords of men would hardly be able to afford, and certainly much more than her friends in the Shire would even hope to dream about. It also had the designs she had seen on Thorin’s weapons and rings carved into them.

“Oh…” she blushed a little at the thought of people being able to tell who she belonged to, and it wasn’t exactly proper to wear such an expensive sign after such a short amount of time. “Thorin, this is really too much of a gift…” she started but the dwarf took her hands into his and wrapped thin chains of a similar style around her wrists.

Billa sighed but let him proceed. “Dwarf women always wear these, everyone will make the effort to ensure that his wife, sisters and daughters have the most beautiful gems.” Thorin started to explain; even though it sounded more like something he was reciting rather than the explanation of dwarven culture he had given to Billa on the journey.

He had told her about how one would craft the most beautiful adornments to prove one’s skill with the gems and metals, things to emphasise the beauty and how she was valued by the one who made those gift.

Thorin placed another chain with heavy rubies around Billa’s neck and draped some pearls around her head like a crown.

He took her chin in both of his hands and tilted her face back to have a proper look. “You are magnificent,” Thorin said, disregarding the frown that had returned to the hobbit’s face while he had decorated her. His eyes wandered over the precious materials he had woven into her hair.

“I can see it before my eyes, once Erebor is restored and I am sitting on my throne again, everything will be as it should be. The Arkenstone will be placed above it again, and you shall sit beside me dressed in all the riches that the King’s consort is entitled to. And when all the people who have wronged us before will come to pay their respects, they shall see what precious treasures I possess. It will be a delight to laugh at their envy later.”

Billa gasped at the words, not sure which had disturbed her more. The way Thorin was still talking about all others, how he was thinking about the damned Arkenstone again or that he had assumed that she’d marry him, without asking her first, without properly courting her or even telling her that he intended to do that soon.

Unconcerned by the audible intake of air and the glare that was directed at him, Thorin brushed his fingers over Billa’s ear thoughtfully.

“Do you know, dwarves often pierce holes into their earlobes and wear rings of metal or precious stones in them. I believe it would suit you if you allowed me to do it.”

The same touch that used to feel so pleasant now made Billa shiver and she shoved Thorin’s hands off her. He finally looked at her, startled from the uncharacteristically harsh rejection.

“You can’t just talk of such things this way!” Billa snapped. “You haven’t even courted me, how can you talk about it so casually? And I am not another polished jewel to make our former hosts and _friends_ jealous of!”

She climbed down from Thorin’s lap with as much grace as she could muster, which wasn’t really that much as she kept slipping on the unstable ground and he had grabbed her wrists again; whether to prevent her from falling or running away she couldn’t tell.

“Don’t you want me to gift you with all these riches? A dwarven maid wouldn’t refuse such an offer from her lover, especially not if she is consort to one of royalty.”

“I do want you to make me gifts, but not like this. You hardly think of anything else! And that is not even my point; you behave as if I’m just an object all of a sudden! Nothing but another thing to keep in your treasury! Also wouldn’t I be the Queen if I married you?”

Thorin looked bemused at that. “Queen of dwarves? That’s a high ambition for a little hobbit burglar from the Shire.” He rubbed his fingers over the chains on Billa’s wrists, making the gems on them dig into her skin and click together in a soft tinkle. He seemed to think that it’d soothe her temper but it only made her be angrier with him.

“Well, it _is_ the proper title I would gain should I choose to marry you,”She said, her voice rising in her fury.

“It would bring certain duties with it,” Thorin said lightly, or rather patronizing, as Billa thought. She hated being talked to in such a manner.

“We hobbits believe that spouses should support each other in their duties, so I am aware of that! And who said that I want to be your queen anyway?” she said coolly.

“So you would be consort after all, what is the matter then?” Thorin said, and he sounded frustrated now, vary of the hobbit not making any sense to him.

Billa glared at him. “No, I do not! Not while you’re behaving like you do now! If this is the way you will be from now on – treating me and our friends like this – I will simply take my bag and leave to the Shire! I have no wish to deal with any of this!” she snapped angrily.

Thorin’s expression darkened and he tightened his grip on Billa’s wrists nearly enough to start hurting.

“What are you saying, burglar?” he hissed and his eyes glittered dangerously. “You belong to me, I will not let run off just like that. What is it that you want to return to? Or whom?”

He had the same expression when he talked of the elves of Mirkwood or when thinking of somebody taking away his gold and the possessive streak was just what made Billa want to run. She stared at Thorin wide eyed, but he didn’t let her go; only tightening his grip even further.

“Did I not offer you enough? Is it more gold that you want? Or is this just some kind of revenge for whatever I did that didn’t agree with your tender hobbit sensibilities?!”

The gems on her wrists rubbed against Billa’s skin even more, rubbing at the flesh like shackles. She made an effort to pull away, anger swelling in her chest as it was ignored yet again.

“Thorin, I am warning you!”

“You dare to…? Know your place, burglar! It is you who–“

“Billa? Uncle Thorin?”

The hobbit and the dwarf’s heads turned into the direction where the voice had come from. Kíli stood on the path they had walked before, staring at them and leaning backwards, as if he wanted to run back before they noticed him. As nobody said a word, he gestured towards the rest of the company “I … Bombur sent me to tell you that the food is prepared and the others wanted to wait for you to … for everyone to return.” A blush crept over his cheeks, as if he was remembering something that he didn’t want to repeat before his uncle.

Thorin nodded and stood up swiftly, walking away from Billa and Kíli. She sighed and rubbed at the red imprints the chains had left on her skin. Kíli stood besides her, watching her pulling off all the jewels that Thorin had placed on her before.

“Billa, is everything alright? Are you and uncle…” Kíli started, sounding worried about the argument he had just witnessed. Billa sighed and gave him a small but genuine smile. He had stopped the argument from escalating any further after all; Eru knew what she might have said in her anger.

“Of course Kíli, I am fine. Thorin and I were simply discussing some important matters. Why don’t you go now, I’ll join you as soon as I remove all these items, I wouldn’t want them to get damaged after all.”

Kíli didn’t seem to be entirely convinced, but nodded and followed his uncle. As soon as he was out of sight, Billa buried her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to do about Thorin or whether he’d stay like this. After she took a moment to compose herself, she too followed the dwarves back to the company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .

The evenings during the journey had been a time to unwind after the tiring day, when the dwarves would make music and tell jokes. At first Billa had been too exhausted to join in or even just understand how they still were in the mood for that, but then she realised that it was just their way of keeping up their spirit. They were just glad that they had shortened the distance to their destination and that nobody had been harmed or attacked by their enemies. And just as it had bothered her before, Billa came to hate the times when her friends were too afraid, miserable or hungry to be loud at night.

Now, in relative safety and with the gold and home they had been searching for all this time, Billa felt that the mood couldn’t have been worse on any time during the travels, not even in the darkness of Mirkwood.

And it wasn’t as if they weren’t loud or making fun. While everyone was grumbling over the repetitive and simple food or the siege, they were still making jokes and amusing themselves. It was late and some had started making themselves comfortable in their bedrolls on the gold, but from where Billa was sitting tucked away in her blankets she could still see them being merry.

Bofur had found himself a beautiful golden flute and was trying to repair it with his cousin’s help, Kíli and Fíli were attempting to scare Ori with some sort of tale from the looks of it while the scribe’s older brothers watched them with amusement and a frown respectively. The older ones were sitting in groups and discussing one matter or another. It should have reassured Billa, but instead it just made her grow more worried.

Thorin was nowhere to be seen yet again.

She spotted Balin, Dwalin and Óin sitting a little apart from the others. Which wasn’t unusual in itself, but then she realised that they were all looking intently at a bird. That was surely Roäc with news of Dáin and the tall folk before the gate, Billa thought and got up to join them as quickly as the unstable ground would allow.

The dwarves took no notice of her apart from Balin glancing up at her kneeling down by his side for a moment and then turning his attention back to the chief of the ravens, who had apparently just finished his report.

“I thank you, Roäc, son of Carc. These news will be of good use and your efforts are a blessing in these difficult times,” he said and bowed his head to the bird. Roäc returned the gesture and then flew off towards the further ends of the treasury, most likely to search for Thorin.

“What did he say?” Billa asked and frowned at the grave expressions on the dwarves’ faces. “Oh please, don’t tell me that it was something bad? Are we in danger? Should I try to talk to Thorin again?”

At that Balin turned to her and placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

“Don’t worry, lass, everything is quite fine. The situation is rather good actually,” he said with a tired smile. It didn’t convince Billa at all and she looked up to the other two. Óin wasn’t looking at her but seemed to be thinking very hard about something, but the bald dwarf decided to explain a bit more.

“Dáin has arrived with about five hundred of his finest warriors. Our enemies will have to think twice about wanting to fight us now.” Dwalin didn’t seem to be as happy about that as he should be, so Billa turned to his brother again.

“But why are you behaving as if everything is already lost?”

Balin sighed and patted her shoulder. “Because even now the outcome of this entire situation is unclear. Strength in numbers does not mean certain victory. And then there is the event that is much more likely to happen: A stalemate. Because Dáin will have to get to us first, which is nearly impossible without starting a fight with the men and elves, which wouldn’t be good at all for everyone inside the mountain. And then there is the urgent matter of supplies. We have enough food to not starve anytime soon, but winter is coming and we will most likely freeze to death or suffer from malnourishment if we can’t sneak past the besiegers and get the necessary supplies.”

“And herbs!” Óin threw in. “And fresh meat and vegetables. We will not starve here, but the mountain is barren with hardly anything suitable to eat. And if we don’t have these things we will grow ill and weak.”

Billa stared at the old dwarf in shock and then looked back to the brothers for confirmation. Dwalin looked away but she managed to see how worried he looked and Balin nodded slightly.

“And what will happen if it comes to war? I really don’t want to experience that! Just the battles we had with stray gobbling packs and orcs were more than enough for a lifetime!”

“I am sure that Thorin will find a way for you to sneak out of the mountain and into safety if you are concerned. He will not risk your life by making you fight against men and elves. You can take your share of the treasure and use it to reach the Shire or any place you wish.”

“But what about you?”

“He will expect us to stay by his side, and we all will fight gladly. Even if we might not come out of it alive and well.”

“So ask Thorin to reconsider his decision?” she tried. Surely the dwarves understood that they had to do something about the situation, no matter how little they wanted to give up any part of their gold. “Surely he will see reason now? And he has to listen to you! I understand that I might not be someone whose opinion will be considered in matters of war, but he certainly trusts your judgement?”

“Oh, lassie, you’re overestimating our influence,” said Balin with another sigh. “He has always been exceptionally stubborn and now that he has decided against giving away his possession, he won’t be swayed easily.”

“Can’t you at least try?” she pleaded.

“Believe it or not, I have already tried to convince him of the futility of many of his favourite ideas, most of the time I have been right but he never once listened to me. Not when he has spent so much time telling everyone about them. Knowing our king, I fear that he might even try to attack the men now, should he feel too threatened by their presence. A battle is inevitable.”

Billa turned away from the dwarf then, trying to imagine what might happen to them. Either possibility didn’t seem any better than the other, and her heart clenched in fear of what was to come.

Balin looked around before saying anything else, pausing to determine where each dwarf of the company was at that very moment, and then he leaned closer to the hobbit.

“It is not really my place to talk about this, especially not to you, seeing as Thorin is my king and you are his … intended. But I worry about him, and not just because he will probably act in a foolish way. You see, he is … different now, you might have noticed. He isn’t really himself now and he has been becoming more and more narrow-minded over the last weeks.”

He paused to look around again and Billa nodded gravely.

“I understand that you dwarves like precious metals and such, but he has never treated me … behaved this way on the journey or when merely talking of Erebor. Is this normal?”

“Even for a dwarf he is spending too much time just looking at the gold, and his thoughts barely move from it at all. I fear it is the same thing that had happened to Thror, and at his worst he was barely fit to lead his people into safety when Smaug attacked.”

Before Billa could reply to that, Dwalin sat up a little straighter and glared at his older brother.

“It really isn’t your place to imply that Thorin has gone insane!” he growled. “Or that he isn’t fit for leadership!”

“That is the last thing I wish to do, but even you must agree that Thorin isn’t behaving like a proper king should right now. I too wouldn’t want to give any part of my share of the treasure away just like that, but Thorin needs to put the safety of his people first! And he can’t spend his days just searching through his possessions!” Balin replied, raising his voice in irritation.

“And even if he were a mere miner, the way he behaves towards his family right now is simply outrageous! You and the other seem to either not notice or don’t mind but it is true. The change in behaviour is the most apparent with little Billa here, no dwarf would treat his intended this way.”

He squeezed Billa’s shoulder reassuringly as her cheeks burned with embarrassment of what he had said. “I am sorry, but I have watched the way he behaved towards you on the journey and now. Let me tell you, no dwarf would ever dare to ignore his wife or sisters’ concerns like that, not if she is a grown woman and had proven herself like you did. And he would never see her as something to make his entire treasure more precious; it is his treasures and gems that are supposed to highlight _her_!”

Balin leaned back and released the hobbit’s shoulder, Dwalin looked down at his feet, visibly dismayed at having to face his friend’s misconduct. Billa watched them, unsure about what to do. The older dwarf noticed and smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry too much about it, everything will look better in the morning. We should all go to sleep now, it’s no use staying awake and worrying about this all night. Have a good night.”

Billa wished them a good night and walked back towards the little nest of old blankets she had made for herself away from the others. Balin’s words had unsettled her a great deal, and even as the others had started to become quieter and slowly drift off to sleep, she lay awake and thought about what the dwarf had revealed.

The idea of a battle sounded terrible to the little hobbit; she hadn’t expected to see as much violence as she had on their journey and it made her imagine all the battles she had read about much more vividly. She did not want her friends to be involved in that, and the men and elves had always been described as good warriors. How likely was it that her friends would be injured or even killed? She dared not think of it.

And Thorin had been so angry with the man who called himself Bard the Dragonslayer, he would surely start the battle himself with just a little more provocation. Oh how she wished that Gandalf were here, he might have a chance to make the stubborn king see reason.

But even if he hated her now, she wouldn’t want any harm to come to him. She wished he were a hobbit instead, or just a little bit more like her kin. She wouldn’t have to worry about him quite so much then and maybe get enough sleep once in a while.

Everyone Billa knew from the Shire would have given away the gold freely, especially as the men had been such good hosts in time of need and really now needed help themselves. They would have given more than the asked share and offered the people outside their gates a nice warm meal or two and would do anything to avoid having to fight them. No hobbit had any use for that much gold anyway.

And why couldn’t she do this instead then? If Thorin was being too much of a fool to see reason, it was up to Billa to fix the situation. She could offer the men her own share of the treasure, Bard seemed to be reasonable enough, he wouldn’t mind just who was providing the gold if she explained the situation.

Billa would end up with nothing at all to reward her for everything she’s been through. But at least she would know her new little family to be safe.

The decision was made and Billa was already planning how to go through with it. She sat up carefully, trying not to set any loose coins into motion and alert the others. It was dark by now, only one or two lamps were still burning but in the dim light she couldn’t make out any movement or indication for somebody being awake.

She crawled over to her bag and started digging for a rope to help her climb down the mountain in the dark. Her fingers brushed over the hem of the old blanket that hid the Arkenstone and she halted for a second. Giving away the Arkenstone would force Thorin to exchange the gold and it would ensure the men of actually getting what they have been promised.

The thought passed as soon as it was born. There was no way Billa could enrage Thorin like that on purpose. She still loved him and such a treachery would just hurt him too much, she couldn’t do that to him now, even if he hated her anyway.

Instead she grabbed some especially valuable looking jewels and necklaces that lay near her and stuffed them in her pockets. That and the word of a little hobbit must do. When she had gathered all the things needed for the descent, Billa’s gaze fell on the beautiful mail shirt that Thorin had gifted her and that she had taken off to sleep. It might well be that she had to leave the company as fast as possible soon, as they might still see her actions as treason, and she really wouldn’t want the last sincere and loving gift of Thorin to be lost. And the protection it would provide outside Erebor wasn’t bad, too.

She slipped it over her head and went towards the gate to find a chance to leave without arising too much suspicion or waking up the entire company.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was well into the night when Billa finally dared to sneak past her sleeping comrades and sent Bombur off to sleep. When she was sure that nobody had woken or even on his way to keep her company on the watch she had promised to hold, she unwrapped the rope she had hidden under her clothes and slipped on the magic ring to make her way to the foot of the mountain.

It had been surprisingly easy, usually somebody had always woken when Billa stood up to move around in their camping place, asking her where she was going and constantly reminding her to stay save. And on the later part of the journey she had spent the night sharing a bedroll with Thorin, who had held her tight, who had woken whenever she stirred as if he could sense her waking up too. He had petted her hair until she drifted off again, and had always waited nervously if she stood up to walk away, as if something terrible could happen to her in such a short absence and distance from the dwarves’ protection.

The memories made Billa’s eyes sting but she blinked furiously, not permitting the tears to fall. The fact that Thorin didn’t hold her at night anymore was one of the reasons she had made her decision to climb down to the tents of the men and elves. Because Thorin’s behaviour had changed too much for her to bear, even before the argument that had surely made him hate her in earnest. It wasn’t just the understandable awe of returning his home after so many years, or the relief of the end to such a long journey.

It had pained to see Thorin spending so much time just staring at the gold, picking up random objects, polishing them, placing them back into the piles and counting jewels that skittered out from under them when moved. Of course, she herself hadn’t been that much better at first, Billa thought as she carefully made her way through the rocks, but after a while the fascination of the glittering treasure had worn off, and most of it wasn’t even that pretty anyway. But nobody else had changed their behaviour towards her so drastically. Or perhaps it just was so much more obvious after his sweet behaviour towards her? She had grown too used to him being gentle and loving.

And maybe it was just as Balin had said, and Thorin was too entranced by the gold? In that case she stood no chance at all to regain his love, not in the way it used to be.

It was a dark and moonless night, even the stars looked dim and bleak, reflecting Billa’s emotions. She stumbled over loose stones and nearly overlooked narrow creeks or the edges of the rocks she walked on. Despite trying to stay as quiet as possible, she couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief as her feet finally touched soft grass and soil without having hurt herself. She had missed that so much after the hard rocks of Erebor; the dwarven kingdom was really a bad place for a hobbit to be in.

But now she had to take care to be especially quiet and focused on the task at hand; even with the magic ring’s help the elves and men that stood guard nearby might still catch her. She made her way towards the little river behind which she had seen the men camping close to last. It was wider and deeper than she had originally thought.

Billa didn’t like fast or deep streams, or other large bodies of water, and she tried to avoid them whenever possible. On the journey the dwarves had carried her over any streams, so she didn’t have to worry about it then, but now her only way was to cross this by herself.

The river was too wide and deep for her to cross just like that, so she walked by the bank to find a place where there were enough rocks and stones to reach the other side while jumping over them. She grimaced as she finally found a place like that, but the current was still worryingly quick there, and she really wished that she didn’t have to jump over the slippery stones in the dark.

Taking a deep breath, Billa leaped forwards and landed on the first stone, barely swaying at all. She leapt again and her feet landed firmly on the next wet rock. She jumped again and again she landed without loosing her balance on the slippery surface and without making too much noise.

She was just beginning to feel confident and there were only a few stones left. Fíli and Kíli had always made fun of her not being able to cross any streams on her own due to being so tiny, and then at her scared expression when being carried. The thought of them watching her now made Billa smile smugly.

With only about two or three leaps left before firm ground, she was about to congratulate herself on her success, and that was the moment when her feet landed on a rock that gave in to her weight. With a startled yelp, Billa flailed about to try and regain her balance but it was too late and she fell off the stone.

The water was terribly cold and within seconds she was engulfed by the dark as the current pushed her under the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, this was already done when I posted the first chapter yesterday, so new updates will take a little longer from now on, as I never know when I have the time to write ^^'


	3. Chapter 3

It could have been only a couple of moments which Billa spend in the water, trying to struggle up towards the surface that kept changing locations, but it was a couple of moments she easily could have lived without.

Two guards were passing right in time to hear the splash of a heavy object falling into the river and to see the water spraying in all directions. They ran to investigate and see if it wasn’t one of their own who accidentally lost his way. When Billa felt a strong hand tug at her sleeve she had the presence of mind to slip her magic ring into her pocket right before she was raised out of the water and high up into the air.

After coughing up the water she had swallowed and regaining her sense of direction, Billa opened her eyes and found herself hanging two feet above the ground, with two elves staring at her with a perplexed expression - it would have amused her in a different situation.

None of them knew what that little funnily dressed creature was, so Billa had to clear her throat and remind them that it was really disrespectful to keep someone to freeze in their wet clothes and that she came to them with an important matter after all.

The Elves finally put her down on the ground to decide what to do with her, and luckily one of them had spent enough time in the camp to know of the little Hobbit woman that was part of Thorin’s company. So they picked her up and carried her to their camp swiftly, where someone wrapped a warm blanket around her and then pushed a bowl of warm soup into her hands in no time, while somebody else went to inform their leaders of the Halfling.

So mere minutes after falling into the water, Billa was sitting in the company of the leaders of the Men and Elves. She tried to ignore her nervousness and their looks, focusing on eating the best meal she had had in days out of a too large bowl and stretching her legs towards the fire.

She must truly look strange to the tall people, a tiny woman in a worn and still damp dress, with a precious glittering mail shirt on top eating soup with the Dragon-Slayer and the king of the Mirkwood. People had whispered and given her curious glances before the guards made them leave and do whatever duties they had at so late an hour.

Neither of the men dared to speak, so when Billa finally scooped out the last drops of soup and put the bowl aside she decided to tell them about her business by herself.

“You can probably imagine why I am here,” she started. “As you are well aware, I am a member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain.” She was proud of her voice staying calm as she said those words, as it was most likely the very last time she had the right to refer to herself with them.

Bard leaned forwards a bit and motioned her to go on, while the Elven King Thranduil remained still, his pale eyes fixed on the hobbit.

“I think we can all agree that this whole situation is a dreadful business, with the dragon causing so much damage and then with… our leader not wanting to give you any part of the treasure to recompense you for your hospitality and for what Smaug did to your town – a mistake on his part if he’d asked me, but he didn’t, of course. So I took it on to deal with the situation myself.”

“Yourself?” Bard gave her a curious look, as if trying to decide whether the tiny Hobbit woman could be taken serious. “Do you mean to say that you are acting on behalf of Thorin and have full authority to negotiate?”

“No not at all, I just said that he refuses to see sense,” Billa said getting a bit huffy. “And if he doesn’t see sense it is my duty to do what is right.”

“You want to betray the King?” the Human asked.

“Of course not!” she was quick to reply. “There’s nothing I would want to do less than betray the company, I signed a contract after all and they are quite dear to me. But you see, we Hobbits are a simple folk. When I realized that all of this political nonsense might lead to a battle… Well, that is not something I want to see happening.”

“It doesn’t have to happen, just go and tell your Dwarf-friends to give us the gold I have asked for. It’s not even that much, considering that I have slain the dragon, which kept them from getting to that gold in the first place. And my people need it more than you do; the mines of Erebor will multiply the amount you already have in no time at all! We have nowhere to live, we have nothing left apart from the help of the woodland elves,” Bard replied harshly, making a gesture towards Thranduil who remained unmoving and just watched Billa.

She felt as if the King was sizing her up, and it made her want to prove herself.

“I know, and you really shouldn’t have to revert to actually battle for your share…”

“If you worry about the battle, let me assure you, I wouldn’t want to subject my people or the elves to too much unnecessary violence. If your Thorin and that little army of his won’t attack us first, there won’t be a fight.”

“But what about the winter?” Billa tried, remembering what Balin had told her. “If this siege goes on for long, your supplies will run short! And before they do, your people will suffer from the cold, as the winters must be harsh so far in the North and in this region? I would not wish that upon anyone.”

Bard didn’t reply to that, but she recognized the hard look he was directing upon no one in particular. He was worried about his people, they were also the reason why his demands where that high in the first place. This man would be a good leader for the humans, thought Billa ruefully, just as Thorin had been to the company before.

“I can make you an offer. Thorin will not part from his gold, and neither of the Dwarves will do a thing against his wishes, he is their king after all. But I am not bound to him in any way; there is no reason for me to actually listen to him. The contract stated that I would be a member of his company until Erebor is reclaimed and Smaug dead. Now I am free to do as I please and I have my share of gold to spend, as I like. Even if it’s giving all of it away to his so called enemies. All I ask in return, is that you leave off to rebuild your town and don’t start a war over the matter.”

The bowman gave her a surprised look and squinted slightly, as if trying to decide whether her words could be taken seriously. “You would give your share away? Just like that? After all you had to do for it?”

“Well not all of it. I would keep enough coins to get back to the Shire in safety, and maybe a trinket or two to remember the adventure. But what use do I have for mountains of gold? None, that’s how much it is. I can leave with all of it carried by the ponies, and then I will just give it to you. Here, have this as prove that I mean it.”

She stood up and pulled out the necklaces and gems she’d taken from the horde, then walked over to Bard and dropped them into his hands without a second of hesitation.

“I would rather give up my payment than see my company or our former hosts come to any sort of harm. We Hobbits like to have our peace, it wouldn’t have happened if any of us had a say in the matter.”

The man looked down at the gold, eyes widening slightly either out of surprise or because the things he held were much more valuable than Billa had initially thought. Then he laughed out, startling her, and it sounded like a dog’s bark.

“You truly are a remarkable creature!” he said when the last of the laughs stopped.

“Indeed,” said Thranduil, leaning closer towards them. The look he was giving Billa was friendlier and somehow she felt accomplished by that. “Mithrandir has spoken fondly of you, and he hasn’t been overstating. You are risking a lot by just coming here, the wrath of a Dwarf is nothing I would recommend to have turned in your direction.”

He gathered his silver robes in his hands and gracefully slid off the log and onto the ground, which brought him as close to Billa’s eye level as it was possible for a tall elf such as him.

“I do not doubt that you will get away with your share of the gold; even the Dwarves won’t break a contract that easily, and you are their friend now. But once Thorin Oakenshield will find out about what you have done, his scorn will fall upon you.”

Billa bit her lip and bowed her head slightly.

“So be it. I can’t control his emotions, so there is no use to worry about it. This might save his and the other’s lives and that is enough. I do not need his friendship,” she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice, as her heartbreak really wasn’t something the Elfking should be concerned with.

Thranduil regarded her with a slight smile, as if he was able to tell what was on the little hobbit’s mind only too well and what her relation to his old rival actually was.

“I do wish you luck, little Burglar, and may everything turn out to your best after all.” He stood up, with Bard following his example. They looked down on Billa with some concern, then they both looked up, staring at something behind her back. Yet Billa paid it no mind and turned around to walk out of the camp as quickly as possible. A tall man, covered in dark robes stood between the tents and only when she had nearly passed him did he speak up, making Billa glance back in surprise.

“Oh Billa, my dear old friend. You did the right thing now, even though I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had chosen to remain with the company tonight,” said Gandalf and there was an odd twinkle in his eyes; half proud and half amused. He stared at her to take in her appearance and smiled to himself.

Billa sighed and turned around to face him.

“If you had been there to make Thorin see sense, I wouldn’t have needed to do this.”

“I am afraid that no power in the world would have achieved that feat. Giving away all of your share for his sake, after everything you have already done – now that might make his majesty regain some much needed humility.” There was more amusement in Gandalf’s voice than Billa thought was appropriate for the situation, but she just bit her lip and nodded in agreement.

“But tell me, what is that old fool spending so much time on in there? Shouldn’t the Dwarves be busy with the gate by now? Don’t tell me that he is still looking for that damned old stone?”

Billa looked up at the wizard and then back at her feet. “He is,” she said. “But it…” she paused, unsure whether she should tell him. Gandalf looked at her expectantly and she could see Thranduil looking in their direction from the corner of her eyes.

“The king will not find it among his treasures. Because I have already done so, just after we arrived inside of the mountain.”

“Oh did you? Why haven’t you returned it to Thorin then? Or for that matter, why didn’t you use it to make Thorin give up that bit of gold the Men were asking for?” he asked and gave Billa a strange look.

“Because…” She fumbled with her dress and tried to find the words. How could she explain why she had kept the stone to herself when the reasons sounded so silly inside her own head? “The stone still matters so much to him,” she finally muttered. “And even if he does not care for anything else besides it, I would give all of my riches to see him safe, but I would not give something that would hurt him even so. I will give Thorin the Arkenstone just before leaving, perhaps he’ll not think so little of me then.”

Gandalf raised his eyebrows and looked at Billa with a barely suppressed laugh and somewhere behind her Thranduil made a weird little noise that sounded like an amused snort. Why they seemed to think that her situation was amusing in any way was beyond Billa, and she really did not want to ask.

“Well then, my dear Billa. You should hurry back to the mountain if you want to reach your friends before they all wake up. And do not leave them on bad terms, take your time to bid them goodbye; who knows when you’ll see each other again if you return to the Shire.” Gandalf said these words lightly, as if that prospect was no big deal, but the thought of never seeing Thorin, or the other dwarves, again made Billa’s heart clench.

She glanced back and Thranduil and Bard, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking at his companions impatiently. The Elfking smiled at Billa again, and it was a nice smile but somehow it seemed to be a barely concealed smirk.

“Farewell, little Hobbit. I am sure that the… situation between you and your stubborn Dwarf will take a turn for the better and sooner than you might think. Even he has enough honour in him to see that what you are willing to do for his sake should not be dismissed.”

Billa gave him a suspicious look, as the Elf seemed to be taking way to much pleasure at the thought of her betraying Thorin in such a way; but perhaps it was just his rivalry with the Dwarf that made him anticipate any kind of unpleasant thing happening to him?

Bard gave the Elf and the wizard a questioning look, and Billa was glad that she wasn’t the only one puzzled by their behaviour. The man turned towards her and gave her a curt nod.

“Be save, burglar. And I wish you luck with your Dwarves, if all goes well you might just prevent unnecessary deaths.”

“Thank you, I wish you luck with your people too,” she said with a small curtsey and turned to leave the camp of the tall people as quick as she could.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

The horizon in the East was already turning grey when Billa finally finished climbing up the rocks to the entrance of Erebor; it would be bright enough to rise for the day very soon. She was tired and her legs ached from the effort, and the prospect of a few hours of sleep before she had to leave again nearly made her dizzy with relief.

Nobody was standing at the gate, which was strange but then it wasn’t the first time that somebody had overslept his watch and Billa really had other things on her mind. She walked through the halls towards the treasuries where the others should still be fast asleep.

The lamps where already burning when Billa reached the heaps of gold, and she heard clattering of metal echoing through the trenches in between. Her friends were already up? Perhaps they anticipated the battle or her absence had been noticed and they were searching for her?

Billa braced her shoulders and marched towards the sound, ready to present the Dwarves with an excuse for her wandering off. The clattering became louder, and it sounded as if something heavy was thrown over and the resulting sound of coins scattering all over the place made her wince.

Apart from that it was eerily quiet, none of the usual teasing, joking or singing was to be heard and the sound of heavy steps pacing around was the only other thing indicating somebody’s presence.

She finally reached the end of the great hall, right where the weapons were displayed, and hesitated to step out and see what had happened. The Dwarves were standing at close to the gold around her and it looked like they were making place for something else, looking down at their feet with grave and sorrowful expressions.

Bofur and Ori were the first to see the Hobbit, quickly stepping up to her, Bofur with slightly outstretched arms as if to stop her from coming nearer, and Ori with a terrified, apologetic expression.

“What?” she asked, looking over their shoulder to see the other dwarves’ looking back at her with wide eyes. Before anyone could speak and explain their queer behaviour a roar came from the furthest wall of the room.

“YOU! You traitor dare to come back here!?”

Billa flinched back at the sound. There Thorin stood among scattered goblets and overturned statues, his hair in disarray and framing his face, which was twisted in a snarl. His right hand was twitching over the hilt his sword, ready to grasp it; the other was clutching a small bundle. The glare he was giving her was truly terrifying.

“W-well, I haven’t done anything wrong, so I- I don’t understand why you are shouting like this,” she said, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

Thorin sneered at her, and turned towards the ones closest to her. “Bring that damned burglar to me. Now!”

Bofur hesitated and placed a hand on Billa’s arm, ready to pull her behind his back to shield her, while Ori stared at her, softly shaking his head, which made his braids fly into his face.

“Did none of you hear my command?! Bring the traitor here, let her face the consequences of a treachery!” He looked back to Dwalin, who stood nearest to him, but even the most loyal friend of the king seemed indecisive about dragging their hobbit forwards.

“No need for that.” Billa stiffened her back and stepped forwards with her chin turned up; she hadn’t done anything wrong after all, no matter how Thorin might see it. Bofur’s hand lingered before he let her go and Ori managed to whisper something that sounded like ‘I am so sorry, I thought-, I did not mean to-‘ but she paid it no mind.

She walked towards the king, somehow feeling less anxious despite the murderous look he was giving her. What could he do to her after all?

“What is it that you accuse me of?” she asked and she was proud of how calm her voice sounded.

“This,” Thorin hissed and shook the bundle before her face. “You are a thief and a traitor, and you have done the worst either could have done to us!”

He dashed the bundle at Billa, who barely managed to catch it as it hit her chest. It was heavy and the material it was wrapped in was familiar. Even before she had fully unwrapped it, she knew what it must be.

And really, as soon as the old cloth was pulled away it revealed the Arkenstone, shining in a beautiful and eerie light. The sight made Billa’s heart drop, as her presenting the gem to the king had been one of the last consolations she had left. But then, she hadn’t intended to steal it, so she could not be blamed for that particular crime.

She looked up, careful to keep her face unfazed to meet Thorin’s eye. He glared right back, completely focused on her and not the gem and it made her bitter.

“It was only discovered hidden away in your bag by chance. You might have managed to steal the heirloom of the Line of Thror, do you even realize how grave your crime is? You wanted to steal something that belongs to the line of Erebor’s kings. You wanted to steal something that belongs to _me_.” He gave her a hard glare. “And then, you have been seen leaving the mountain.”

He straightened as he said that, no longer looking as if he was ready to jump to attack. “You have one chance to excuse your behaviour and give an explanation for you not being a traitor. What did you do down there? Did you go to see the Men of that blasted town?”

Billa gritted her teeth, trying not to snap back at Thorin and worsen her situation and their relation more than strictly necessary.

“Yes,” she said and did not break their eye contact. “I was indeed in the camp of the Men, and I spoke to them. I met their leader, Bard the Dragon-Slayer, who defeated Smaug and made our being here possible. I also spoke to the Elfking of the Mirkwood, Thranduil.” Thorin’s face twitched at that, and he gave Billa a desperate look, nearly draining his anger briefly, but Billa would not let him interrupt her. “And I reached an agreement with them. I will give them the gold they rightfully demand of you, and then they will leave you Dwarves in piece to your mountain. I went away to prevent a war which you, stubborn fool that you are, would have started.”

For a moment Thorin could just stare at her, mouth hanging open in shock, and a part of Billa was taking malicious pleasure from that after all the things Thorin had said and done (or rather not done) in the last few days. Just seconds later she found herself regretting it, as the Dwarf’s eyes gleamed with madness and he grabbed her with a furious roar and shook her like one would shake a disobeying dog.

“YOU DARE HALFLING?! You dare conspiring against me with our greatest enemies?! You dare trying to steal my gold?! The gold we have sacrificed so much for? You… After all this time you simply turn against us? Or has this been your intention from the start? Did you sit with the damned Elf in his palace and laughed about how you were trying to fool us while we sat in his prison, rotting in his cells?” he shouted in her face, clutching her at the shoulders and shaking her hard enough to bring tears to her eyes and make her gasp in pain.

She could barely see the other members of the company through her tears, looking on in terror but not daring to move towards their mad king. Her head rolled around with each new shake and she was sure that her arms would be bruised for weeks.

“That cursed wizard recommended you as the best burglar one could wish for, but the old doter forgot to mention just who you would burgle for! Do you just hate us Dwarves so much that you would commit the greatest crimes? I will banish you for this, cursed creature!” Thorin hissed and the hateful look he was giving Billa in that moment was just too much.

“Enough!” She snapped and wrestled herself free from his grip. “It is you, who is the fool and thief here, Thorin Oakenshield!” she shouted back at him, her eyes shooting daggers. “I have never once intended to do you any harm, not even now when it is well within my right!”

“There,” she swatted the Arkenstone back at him, and he nearly let it fall in his surprise. “I had intended this to my final parting gift to you, so you would have at least one happy memory left involving me!”

Thorin looked up at that, and he looked as if he was trying to see her through a fog, but now that she had started she would not stop and her voice grew loader, not minding all of their friends witnessing the exchange.

“And the gold I have promised the men and the elves is not yours! I have my own share of the treasure, to use as I please, and I decided to give all of it away in exchange for peace! I planned to bring them all of my share and then leave for good. Do you understand Thorin Oakenshield? I love you even though you might hate me more than you have ever done with anyone before, you might think me a traitor, but at least you will be still alive to do that!”

“You… you promised them _your_ gold?” he asked and his shoulders slumped a bit.

“Haven’t you listened? Yes! I would give all the gold in the world if that means that you can live without being killed in a stupid battle! I would even give that Arkenstone away if I had to, even though it might hurt you. I still love you more than any treasure I could have ever possessed, even now that you have so obviously gone mad with your love for the gold, and forgot all about what you said to me before!”

Billa had to pause there and she realised that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She rubbed at her face furiously, and missed the shocked expressions around her. She could hear some of the Dwarves whisper in what sounded like an awed tone, but Billa ignored it.

“I would… I would even give away all I have back in the Shire. I would choose to live alone as a vagrant with no possession at all, with no place to stay and with you hating me while I still love you, as long as I knew that you and the others are alive.”

A gasp went through the circle of Dwarves and as Billa looked up from her hands, she saw that most of them had pressed their hands to their mouths and were either giving her a look she couldn’t place or glaring at their king as if they were ready to punch him in the face. The younger Dwarves looked between the two of them open mouthed, and Dwalin seemed to be trying to wipe his eyes without anyone noticing.

Thorin himself looked like he had been struck in the face. He blinked and stared at the Hobbit as if he was only now seeing her for the first time since she disappeared into the hidden tunnel to spy on the sleeping dragon. He reached out to take her by the shoulders again, but Billa twitched back from the touch.

“Billa, Billa…” he called, and his voice sounded broken and guilty. She just shook her head violently, not wanting to hear anything he might want to say now. “Billa, please, just look at me.”

Billa did so, as he had not used her name for so long. It looked like someone had placed a heavy weight on Thorin’s shoulders, and he glanced at her with such a sorrowful and horrified expression that it made her heart ache for him, despite knowing that she should not feel sorry for him, and despite his yes being clearer than they had been since they had reclaimed the mountain.

He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the words, and Billa turned to make a cautious step toward him.

But before either could say another word, the sound of horns startled everyone out of the moment. The sound came from outside, and Billa recognized the horns that raised the alarm. Before the last echoes faded away, Nori came stumbling through the passageway between the gold with a terrified expression.

“ORCS!” he called gesturing back, his eyes wide. “And Goblins at the foot of the mountain.”

“What?” Thorin asked warily as if he couldn’t make sense of the words.

“We are under attack!” Nori said, trying to stay calm. “The Men and Elves were attacked and as far as I could make it out, Dáin and the Dwarves of the Iron Hills will meet them in battle, too!” Billa looked around at her companions, taking in the looks of terror and confusion around her.

“There are Orcs, Warg riders and Goblins, more than I have every seen in one place before! They are coming from all directions, the armies will be overrun. And I think they are trying to fight their way into Erebor!”

He looked straight at Thorin who seemed to be frozen in shock.

“If we don’t act now… I think we might just loose Erebor for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, this took longer than expected! I had way too much trouble figuring out what to do with Thranduil and Bard, and then I was busy in real life and kept loosing the mood to write ^^'  
> but hey, it's longer than the last chapter and there's more Billa/Thorin interaction?


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was happening in a rush now; as soon as Thorin had fully grasped the situation, he ran towards the balconies to take a look himself, shouting orders all the way. The dwarves quickly stormed off towards their bags to retrieve their weapons and armour.

Billa took a moment to watch everyone hurry around and then tried to compose herself. There would be a battle after all, and she couldn’t just join in while her mind was preoccupied with the argument she just had. Instead of waiting for someone to tell her what she should do to help, Billa walked over to the display of armour from where Thorin had gotten her the mail shirt she was still wearing, and picked a helmet and shield that were small enough for her. She didn’t know whether they were good ones, but there was no time to ask someone.

When the defence had been taken care of, Billa dashed over to her bag where she had left Sting, and buckled its belt around her hips. As soon as her armour was complete, she ran towards the direction where she had seen Thorin and Balin last, as those were the mostly likely to have information about their further actions.

She didn’t need to look for long; Thorin was already walking back from the balconies, dictating a message to Balin and a few ravens, who were struggling to keep pace with him.

“Send word to Dáin, tell him to protect the northern flank of the Men’s army, and aid them setting up their archers. And make sure that both the Elves and the Men know that we will fight by their side! We will have time for a meeting when this is over.”

He stopped abruptly when he saw Billa and the intense glare he gave her made her want to avert her eyes or hide. Thorin glanced back at Balin who was sending some of the ravens on their way, then he stalked over to her but refrained from touching her as he noticed how her shoulders tensed.

“Who gave you the armour?” he asked and glanced over Billa’s attire. She bit her lip and tilted her chin up in defiance at that and replied: “I took it myself. I am not so silly to march into battle without some kind of protection. And do not worry, I will return it to you afterwards, if there is anything left of it.”

The look Thorin gave her was one of pure terror and he raised his hands, as if to touch her face or to plead.

“Stay out of the battle, Billa. You can’t join us down there!”

“Why not? You know very well that I can fight!”

“There is no time to argue, stay in Erebor! Do not leave, I don’t want to see you among the warriors!”

“The battlefield will be large, you will not see me anyway and I will make sure to leave right when it’s over. I don’t want to impose on you if that’s what you–“

“NO, you foolish Halfling!” He cried and finally grabbed her by the shoulders again. “This battle is nothing like the fights we had on the journey! The Orcs are in the majority, it will be very hard for us, experienced warriors to hold our ground, and half of our army are tall people! A Hobbit like you will have no–” He interrupted himself and started his sentence anew. “One or two Orcs are already too much for one like you, and there is an _army_ waiting to slaughter anything that can’t get away fast enough! You must be stupid to think that you could … I can’t bear the thought of you fighting down there.”

His voice hitched and he turned his head away as Billa stared up at him, mouth wide open. To have Thorin display his worry for her in such a manner … He had hardly done it even before they came close to Erebor. She watched his face to try and make out his expression that was obscured by the hair that had fallen in front of it, and finally she sighed and answered calmly.

“I can’t stay here and do nothing while you fight. I cannot bear the thought of not knowing what happens, of not being able to help.”

Thorin turned his head back and she gave him a level look. They stared at each other for a while, waiting for the other to give in first. Finally Thorin’s shoulders slumped a little and he shook his head.

“I see there is no point to talk you out of this then? You are stubborn for such a tiny creature, but nothing has ever kept you from running head first into a wall of things that might kill you,” he said. “But you have to promise me to stay at the back of the fight! Go where the archers are positioning themselves right now and do not leave them!”

Billa opened her mouth to protest, but seeing that Thorin urged on. “Please, promise me just this thing. The Elvish King will be there, and Gandalf surely too. It will be the last place to be attacked or to fall, and it will be the safest part of the battle you could possibly be in! Promise me Billa, my heart would be much lighter if I knew that nothing terrible can happen to you.”

The grip on Billa’s shoulders tightened, but she could feel Thorin carefully trying to keep it loose anyway. His request was understandable, and even though Billa wanted to deny it, simply because she wanted to stay as close to her friends as possible, to protect them, and out of spite as she did not want to listen to his words ever again.

“All right,” she said. “I will do my best to not get too close to any unnecessary danger.”

Thorin sighed with relief and squeezed her shoulders lightly.

“Thank you. May Mahal protect you in this battle, and may He grant us all not dying in bad blood.”

After saying this, Thorin quickly turned on his heels and rushed off towards where the last of the Dwarves had finished assembling their armour and weaponry. Billa watched him disappear between the treasure and she could feel a cold sense of dread settling in her chest. This could be the last time she saw him and her friends alive after all.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The battle had started without them, but only a small group of Dwarves and Men had already clashed with the Orcs and Goblins. More and more tall folk and Dwarves of the Iron Hills stormed towards the lines of their enemies, while others positioned themselves by the foot of the Lonely Mountain, to prevent the attackers from encircling and fighting them on more than one side.

Billa hadn’t seen much of that before she had reached the hills were she could see the Elves’ archers position themselves. Not a single Orc had managed to come close enough to them yet, but that was only a matter of time.

The clang of metal on metal and the screams of the battle carried over even so, and it only served to make Billa dread for her friends’ lives even more. Gandalf sat right beside her, his staff and sword lying beside him, ready to be picked up in just a moment’s notice. He seemed remarkably unfazed by the vicious fighting, or perhaps he just understood these things better than the hobbit, who had never seen one of such magnitude. Occasionally he glanced towards the horizon in the west with a slight frown, but that was it.

Thranduil stood a few feet behind them, his face blank and unmoving, seemingly unimpressed by the battle as well, but his sharp eyes roaming over the battleground betrayed him.

Clutching Sting’s hilt, Billa did her best not to pace back and forth nervously, or run out towards the fighting right away. She tried to spot her friends in the mob, but it was nearly impossible to get a clear sight on anything, and she wanted to be sure before joining them in battle, just waiting at the side lines seemed terribly cowardly at the moment, and she wanted to help.

Occasionally she thought that she could make out a familiar hairstyle or coat among the warriors, but each time her view was obscured before she could make out anything more. Billa kept brushing her fingers over her pocket carefully, contemplating to put on the ring and try to help her friends like that, but she didn’t want to use it with Thranduil so close behind her. She still felt a little guilty for sneaking about his palace and stealing food, not to mention releasing his prisoners.

And then she finally saw it: The flash of blue that was Thorin’s coat, quite far away from where she was standing right now. But there was no mistake, it was him and around him the rest of his companions, spreading out on the battle field. That was enough for her to try and find her way to her friends. Gandalf called something after her, a warning perhaps, but Billa was had already run in between the Men and Dwarves to join the battle.

It was completely different from the few fights she had been in before, and even those had been so chaotic and demanding her attention to be in dozens of places at once.

At first all Billa could do was try and not be hit by a wayward axe or stabbed by the Orcs and Goblins who noticed the slim figure between the sturdy Dwarves and the tall Elves and Men. She merely defected any weapon with her shield or Sting at first, preoccupied with trying to reach the banner that showed the position of Durin’s heirs and at least some of the members of the company.

But eventually an Orc with ugly scars and armour that looked like it was growing out of his skin stepped into her path and forced Billa to fight. The Orc raised a dangerous looking mace with a nasty grin, certain that that little girl was an easy target. But before he could bring it down, the Hobbit made a leap forwards and stabbed Sting into his guts, pulling it out immediately to catch a counter-attack. The Orc just blinked in surprise and staggered back, falling down on the ground.

He did not get back up and Billa dashed past him, trying not wince at the sight of black bloodstains on her hands and skirt. However, it wasn’t the last one her clothes would have to endure, as the closer she got to actually seeing one of her friends among the Dwarves or even reaching them, the more of their enemies tried to stop her from moving on.

Billa managed to get away alive from every single one of them; she cut and stabbed and tried not to be knocked off her feat. She sliced through flesh and stabbed Orcs that had thrown themselves on one of the warriors, all the time trying to make her way towards the place where she was sure to find Thorin and the company.

Sometimes she came dangerously close to loosing as she was attacked directly, but through sheer luck her shield and the mail shirt protected her of any grave wounds. That and the fact that she was so small that most did not even see her, or that an arrow or the sword of a Dwarf took care of the danger. Billa never stopped long enough to thank them, or take much note of the surprised look they gave the little woman, but then she was sure that these sort of manners were not expected on a battlefield anyway.

Eventually, as she staggered through the muddy ground and in between the fallen and their weapons, Billa found those who she had been looking for. All around them their allies and their enemies were clashing in their fight, and in the middle of it stood Thorin, bruised and covered in dirt but tall and proud, swinging his sword and shouting orders at the Dwarves, and insults at the Orcs. By his side Kíli and Fíli held their ground just as well, the younger firing off arrows while his brother was at his back, swinging his swords at anything that dared to come close to him and his family.  
The sight made Billa’s knees tremble slightly and she let out a sigh of relief, and then a groan as the stabbing pain in her sides and the burn of her lungs finally caught up with her. The Hobbit leaned against the carcass of a Warg, not even caring about touching the creature, her eyes fixed on the three Dwarves as she tried to calm her breath. It made no sense to try and join them right now; Thorin would surely be mad at her for breaking her promise, and she was no match to an Orc who’d managed to defeat _them_.

Her shield lost, Billa looked at the fighting around her and suddenly realized just how vulnerable she was out here, and the thought made her cheeks flush. Now was probably the best of times to put on her magic ring and become invisible and safe of deliberate blows.

Just as she tried to will her hand to stop trembling from exhaustion enough to reach into her pocket and get out the ring without dropping it, the far too close howling of Wargs and the battle cries of Orcs filled the air.

Billa turned and watched in shock as another wave of Orcs came upon the people she had thought save just seconds before. Thorin saw it too, and she could see rather than hear his shout of rage as he tried to fight off three Orcs at once, while Kíli drew his sword and started using it and his bow to beat his foes and Fíli jumped in their way to prevent too many coming upon them at once. She was too far away to make out much though, and she stood up again, half climbing on the Warg to see what was going on.

She could see the arrows flying towards them, she did not see whether they had hit their aim, she couldn’t hear whether the scream was one of surprise or of pain as Kíli stumbled backwards, trying desperately to keep himself in front of the king. His bow had broken and he raised his sword. Nobody was near enough to help, everyone was too focused on staying alive and it was too loud around them to hear the shouts.

Billa’s feet moved on their own accord and all she could hear and feel was the frantic beating of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears. Kíli was barely standing on his feet anymore, Fíli was right beside him and together they somehow managed to slay the nearest Orc.

She stumbled over stones and warm metal, corpses perhaps – it didn’t matter, it only slowed her down. Thorin’s own swings at his attackers grew slower and weaker; he seemed to try and get out from between the few that were trying to circle him, it was hard to tell as she was still too far away.

Billa cut through the leg of a Goblin that tried to grab her and dodged away from a spear, all the time trying to see what the brothers and their uncle were doing.

She could still reach them, nobody else was there to help, she had to fight with the heirs of Durin, with the people that could have been her family in another world were gold did not drive the Dwarves mad and Thorin loved her enough to ignore it either way. It was the only place she could be now.

Something white flashed before Thorin and she knew that it had to be Azog, that he had somehow managed to fight his way through hundreds of Dwarves and Men, somehow tracking down just the one she could not bear seeing hurt. Everything went too fast after that, and yet too slow.

It was like a nightmare, Billa could barely run fast enough, she stumbled forwards with no regard for where she was stepping or who was around her, her sight in front of her kept being blocked by other fighters and she could only make out her Dwarves for a few moments at a time.

She saw Kíli jumping to his uncle’s aid; she saw Fíli sliding over the mud, whether he was hit and fallen or trying to attack she could not tell. Just let them live through this, let them all live, let Thorin not be hurt by this, that was all she could think.

Thorin and Azog were the only thing Billa could see the moment when the Dwarfking staggered back from a powerful blow of a hammer. He raised his sword but another blow nearly made him drop it and fell to the ground.

He fell right before her eyes; she was close enough to see the dents in his armour, and the trickle of blood that came out of his mouth as he screamed in agony. She was close enough to see the triumphant smirk on the Orc’s face and the snarl he got in return, as Thorin tried to get back up despite his injuries. She could see how when turned around he held himself as if his entire right side was paralysed in pain, and how Azog deflected the Dwarf’s blows with ease and knocked the sword away with his maze, bringing him down again. She was not close enough to reach him.

Billa could feel her throat hurt as she screamed for help but she could not see whether anyone was closer than her to reach Thorin in time. She saw Azog turning away, suddenly discovering the little Hobbit trying to cross the short distance through the battle, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he recognized her. The last thing Billa could see was Thorin turning to see her, eyes first glazed over then widening in pure horror before a kick made him topple over, the next moment something caught her from behind and was carrying her away.

She screamed and kicked and tried to get out of the grip that had lifted her up in the air, but someone wrestled Sting out of her hands and then they were already turning around so that Billa’s view on the fight was blocked. She attempted to wriggle out of the hold to catch a glimpse on it again, but the strong arm around her waist did not yield.

The Orcs around them tried to attack at first, but something made them scream in shock and run away, but all that Billa could see were shadows of something big rushing all over the battlefield and something black and enormous following a Dwarf-sized warrior towards where the heirs of Erebor had fallen. Only moments later the fighting in her perimeter stopped and the Orcs and Goblins tried to retreat while cries of victory of Dwarves, Elves and Men rose.

She did not realize that she had been crying and calling for them all the time until something warm and calming brushed over her cheeks and wiped away the tears, petted her hair and cradled her like a child.

Swallowing her sobs, Billa turned her head to see who was carrying her, and was met by the tired but relieved face of Gandalf.

“Now, now, my dear friend, there is no reason to cry bitter tears over nothing,” he scolded her gently. “Look, the Eagles have come to our aid and our enemies are defeated.”

He put her down on a patch of unsoiled grass, and Billa realised that he must have carried her away from the centre of the fighting, away from where Thorin had – where she had seen the others last.

She rubbed at her cheeks, trying to clean away some of the dirt and tears that made it sticky. It should be the least of her concerns now, but it was the only problem she could solve at the moment.

“Thank you,” she sniffed as Gandalf held out a small white handkerchief for her to use. “You… Gandalf, you didn’t see what… what happened to Thorin and Fíli and Kíli? And the others? Please, I must go and look for them!”

As the wizard didn’t reply immediately, Billa shuddered. “He fell, I’ve seen that but…” the very real possibility of her friends and Thorin being dead hit her and Billa felt as if something cold was clutching her guts. “You carried me away…”

Gandalf gave her a grave look and suddenly he looked much older than the ruthless fighter who had made the Orcs scurry away from his blows. Billa noticed that he was holding his sword arm as if it was injured and his coat was torn and muddied.

“I wanted to make sure that you were brought to safety before the fighting escalated too much. Beorn had taken his bear shape and threw himself to Thorin’s aid. You could have been buried underneath the fleeing Orcs or be run over.”

He stood up and took her hand in his unharmed one. “Let us walk over to the healer’s tents, we both need to take care of our injuries and it’s the place we will find our friends.”

And so they walked over the battlefield, the Hobbit and the wizard making an odd pair between the tired warriors around them, who were looking through the piles of dead to find their own and recover those who could not get up on their own anymore.

Billa kept her eyes fixed on the ground most of the time, her head was spinning and she was afraid of breaking out in tears again. And she was careful not to look at the fallen and wounded around her, too afraid of seeing the face of a dear friend among them. Once in a while she did look up when Gandalf lead her around obstacles.

The Men watched them curiously or ignored them all together, too busy working on recovering their friends or preoccupied with their own injuries. The Elves barely halted on their way but each took their time to at least bow their head in acknowledgement of their presence.

The Dwarves however seemed to be far too to interested in them given the circumstances. Each of them stared at the pair walking towards the tents, and some whispered among each other, giving Billa a wide eyed stare that she could not place.

But she could not bring herself to care about their gossip right now; she was too exhausted and all she wanted right now was to see her friends alive and maybe even welcoming her among them again.

They had nearly reached the tents of the Dwarves, which were few but right before the gates to Erebor, as Billa heard somebody call her name. Bofur and Nori were hurrying towards her and she was relieved to only see minor cuts and only few bandages around their arms and heads.

She let go of Gandalf’s hand and let herself be dragged off by the Dwarves. Bofur grabbed her by the shoulders and lead her a few feet away and then he and Nori gave her an once-over to make sure that there were no bigger injuries.

“Are you all right? We were so worried when you didn’t turn up immediately, but I told them that our wee lassie will be fine, you are all right, aren’t you?” Bofur patted her shoulder and went on before she could reply. “We should go and fetch Óin anyway, it wouldn’t do to let our little burglar get away with not having her injuries treated.”

“No, Bofur, I am all right, I am fine…” Billa grasped his hands and looked up at him, pleadingly. “Just tell me, is everyone alive? What… what happened to … I must know.”

Bofur winced at that, looking guilty. “You should take care of your injuries before going to… seeing anyone.” But Nori scoffed and glared at him.

“You see that she can stand on her own and she is not loosing any blood. Let her see them, she has every right to see them, more than any of us at least.” He placed his hand on Billa’s back and lead her away from Bofur, who just watched them with a dreading expression.

All the Dwarves of the company appeared and gathered around the biggest tent, making way to them and bowing their head to Billa, faces twisted in sorrow. She felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted of her shoulders as she saw that none of them seemed to be too gravely injured, even though Dwalin and Dori needed crutches to remain standing.

But then she reached the entrance to the tent and Nori’s hand left her shoulder; nobody had said a word and Óin was standing before her, his hands still covered in blood of the wounded he had helped treat and Billa realized that neither of the heirs of Erebor had joined the Dwarves to greet her.  
Her knees nearly buckled and her vision blurred.

“No,” she whispered, unsure if the sound had even left her mouth. Billa wanted to turn away or to have someone hold her, as she wasn’t sure about how she was even standing on her own.

“You should go inside now, lass,” the old Dwarf said. “Your presence was requested and I can not say for how long he will still be able to see… They live now, but their wounds are severe, so they aren’t awake for much at a time… And you should be with your king now.”

He stepped aside and Billa swallowed her tears. She took one deep breath and braced her shoulders against an imaginary wall, then she reached out to brush her fingers against the tent’s walls and stepped inside.

It was dark inside, and it took Billa a few moments to adjust to enough to see again. The smell of metal and sickly sweet herbs hung in the air and some dimmed lamps stood on small benches which were covered in fresh dressing material and pots of grounded salves. Screens divided the large tent into smaller portions, probably designed to provide the patients with privacy but right now there were only three occupants.

Closest to the entrance were two cots, pushed together with barely just enough space in between them to still be able to reach across to the other. Billa stumbled towards them as she recognized the two young Dwarves underneath their bandages and the blankets and furs covering them and nearly sobbed with relief.

Both boys were alive. Fíli seemed to be unconscious, completely still apart from the shallow breaths, and he didn’t seem to be in pain right now. There was a shocking amount of bloodied rags lying under his cot, some of it seemed to be dressing material, some had the colour of the clothes he had worn last. His head was wrapped up, nearly hiding all of his face and the rest of his body was hidden by a blanket, for which Billa was thankful, as she was not sure whether she was prepared to see the full damage on the prince’s body just now.

Kíli was stirring in his sleep, his face twisted and occasional moans escaping his mouth as if he was in pain or having a nightmare. His arm was reaching out from underneath the covers and there was fresh blood on some of his bandages. Billa took his hand and brushed her fingers through his hair, feeling more helpless than she had ever before in her life. She wished she could do something to stop the boys from hurting; they were older than her and still she felt like they were children to be protected from such terrible things like the battle they had just survived.

She knelt there, in between their cots, brushing her fingers over Kíli’s head and face until he stopped trembling so much, and straightening and readjusting both Dwarves’ blankets until she was sure that both were lying as comfortable as possible. Only when Billa was sure that there was nothing else she could do for them did she stand up and turn towards the furthest end of the tent.

Screens hung in a bow around the barely visible cot, making it look like another tent within the one she stood in. The lamps inside seemed to burn the brightest, not one of them dimmed to the lowest flame. As Billa stepped closer tentatively, she could hear rasping irregular breaths and the sound made her want to run forwards and away at the same time, but she braced herself and stepped inside to join the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this took so long, but all of my teachers decided that projects are a good idea at once! And then this chapter was especially hard to write as I wasn't sure how to write the battle. The next one will (hopefully) be done sooner.  
> Also, thank you for everyone who left a comment or gave a kudos or just read this!!! And again thank you for Inja for being a wonderful beta <3


	5. Chapter 5

Billa came as close as she dared, having barely crossed the makeshift doorway and looked at the dwarf lying on the cot. Thorin’s eyes were screwed shut and the arm that was not tucked away under the blanket was curled around his ribs protectively. He seemed to fight for every breath he made and he shivered from the pain occasionally.

The Hobbit stared at him, mouth open unsure of what to do, and whether she was allowed to step up to him or whether he would chase her away for intruding in such a vulnerable moment as he wanted to rest or for all the promises she had broken since the previous evening, however good her intents had been at the time.

But then his opinion did not matter to Billa, she would not let someone keep her from making sure that her beloved would live, even if it was the person she loved doing so and not exactly returning the feelings at that very moment. She stepped closer to the cot, trying to make out any indication for the extent for his injuries. There seemed to be some bandages under his shirt, but not much blood anywhere visible, and at least one of his legs seemed to be in a cast, judging by the bulges of the blankets.

When Billa was sure that there was nothing else she could make out without coming closer, she glanced up at his face, only to find Thorin’s pale blue eyes fixed on her. She stiffened at the sight, but did not move away and returned the stare.

Thorin stared at her, with a slight frown, lips moving slightly as if he was trying to figure something out. Then he blinked as if he had come to a conclusion and reached out with his good arm, wincing and shaking at the simple motion and spoke with a horse voice.

“Billa – I was certain I have seen you… But you are alive, I am glad for it. I must– must speak with you…” His hand brushed over Billa’s face and slid down her cheek to her shoulder, too weak to be steady. She caught it in hers and pressed it back on the cot firmly but as gentle as she could.

“Are you unharmed? Were you injured? You must go and see–“

“Yes, I am fine. But you must rest, my King, there is no need to speak with injuries such as yours plaguing you. There- You will have time to speak when you feel better.”

Thorin’s lips twitched in a painful smile and he shook his head slightly.

“I would not risk you not being able to hear me due to one of us departing where the other can’t go.” The words made Billa’s heart ache and she glanced down Thorin’s bruised body and then back at his face.

“Please don’t speak like this, you can’t loose hope of a recovery.”

“I am afraid that I am closer to death than to life right now, my halfling. But I will try to stay here, I cannot leave you alone to deal with… I- I will not leave you.”

Thorin tried to slip his hand out of Billa’s grip to reach for her face again, and as he didn’t manage that, he attempted to pull his other hand out from underneath the covers to use it instead. The motion made him hiss and pale in pain, but despite the agony clearly visible on his face he kept on moving.

With a startled cry, Billa launched herself at him to catch Thorin’s other arm and prevent him from stirring it any more, a movement that ended up with her very nearly lying across his chest.

She knelt at the edge of the cot, holding on to Thorin’s wrist and tried to keep her arms straight to prevent her weight from pressing down on his apparently badly injured chest. They stared at each other wordlessly, Thorin not moving at all, until Billa leaned back and released her hold.

“Please don’t do that,” she requested quietly. “Don’t move, whatever your injuries are, they will only get worse, there is nothing worth doing that.”

“Nothing? How can you–“ Thorin sighed and shut his eyes. He did not speak for a while, and for a moment Billa thought that he had perhaps fallen asleep or unconscious, but then he started speaking again.

“You were there.” He raised his hand again to grab Billa’s sleeve. “You were there on the battle field, when I asked you to stay away, when I made you promise me to be where the elves were, you ran right to the place were anyone as inexperienced in war and with a common sense would have stayed away.”

He coughed and winced at the way his body shook from it, the grip on Billa’s sleeve pulling her down slightly. Thorin gritted his teeth until his breathing had calmed down again.

“You could have been slaughtered out there! And I wouldn’t have been there to prevent it – do you see why you must listen when I ask for you to stay where it is save? I can barely keep my company of experienced Dwarves alive but you–” He managed to whisper then. Billa managed a weak smile.

“No matter where on the battlefield I would have been, you couldn’t have been able to stop any Orc who has set his mind on killing me.”

Thorin glared at her but there was fear in his eyes.

“You do not understand. You have seen Azog there? Do you know what he would have done, what he said to me when he brought me to my knees? He would not kill me immediately; he would injure me enough for death to be unavoidable and further actions to be impossible; he would have gone after _you_ then. Because that is what he takes the most joy from. Destroying the line of Durin and slaughtering my family and everything that is left in the world that I cherish before my eyes before granting me the mercy of cutting my head off.”

Billa stared at him as he tried to catch his breath, shivering as she imagined what he had just described; imagined Azog kneeling over her and a blade cutting through her chest, the last thing she would ever see being Kíli and Fíli lying in the mud with Thorin, wounded and staring back; imagined dying with the knowledge that she had failed and that the one she had wanted to protect was dying anyway.

“And how could I ever dare to face Mahal, knowing that I failed to protect the one who has given up so much for my sake, the one who dared to defy me to save me from my own madness. What use is there in a king who can’t even see to the safety and happiness of his o–“

He stopped himself mid-sentence and pulled a face as if he was in pain.

“Forgive me, I should not assume…“

None of them spoke for a few minutes, Thorin careful not to look at the Hobbit, and Billa shifting slightly so that she was sitting at his side, watching him.

“You spoke the truth when you said you would give all of your possessions away to protect me…” he finally said, and his voice wavered, uncertain, questioning the finality of the woman’s decision. Thorin turned back to her, his face imploring, afraid of what her answer might imply.

Billa bit her lip as she met his eyes. They were gentle again, and despite being slightly hazy from his pain really _focused_ on her more than they had been for days before they had reclaimed Erebor. There was a proud voice in her head, which sounded just as her mother had, and it told Billa that Thorin did not deserve any more kindness than she had already given him. It was better to have her heart broken by not returning to her lover, than to stay with someone who did not warrant possessing it in the first place. Let Thorin think what he wants until he has earned back the certainty of having his affections returned.

But there was another voice, pleading with her to not be cruel in false pride, that this man, whom she still loved more than anything she ever knew, was _dying_ , and what did a few days of coldness really matter against the very real prospect of all chances of the Dwarf she had fallen in love with being gone for ever?

“I would still give… everything for you to live,” she replied, deciding to be as honest as she could. “For _all_ of you,” she added as an afterthought. “I don’t want anyone to die but I could not bear the thought of my friends dying. I don’t think loosing all of Erebor’s gold compares to that.”

Thorin managed a soft chuckle stroked over Billa’s arm. She sniffed at that, and leaned into the touch despite her resolve, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.

“That is probably not something a Dwarf would understand.”

“Oh, we do understand! We are not quite as fixed on the things other folks think we are. It is shameful to value gold over the survival over your closest kin and friends. No one, not even a king has an excuse to do so.” His hand stilled right bellow where he had griped Billa’s shoulders hard in the morning. “But even a king is not immune to the greed for it to blind him for everything around him and the dangers that are looming over what is truly dear.”

“You were right in protesting against my behaviour, and you also had every right to just take the gold and leave us and let happen what I have brought on myself. Most Dwarves would have done that.”

“Well, I am no Dwarf, I am a Hobbit, and we generally don’t abandon someone who is or even used to be close to us just like that. Not when the trouble they got themselves into is as big as yours. And we do not value treasures enough for letting anything like that happen.”

Thorin smiled ruefully and pulled Billa closer, and she let him as she could see the strength leaving his body again.

“You Hobbits are such a gentle-hearted folk. We all could learn from you and they would be so much less pain and despair in our lives if we would value the things you do. All conflicts of these past days wouldn’t have happened if we’d value food, cheer and song above hoarded gold and treasures.”

A small sound escaped Billa’s mouth; half laugh, half sob, and she willed her fingers to stop trembling as she covered Thorin’s hand in hers.

“So you do admit that our ways have their benefits?”

“They do indeed…” the Dwarf’s eyes were drooping and Billa could see that he was struggling to stay conscious again.

“Please, if I do not… I have never regretted anything more than how I have treated you, how I have wronged you. I want you to know this, if I die here, do remember me for the days when I have been closer to what you deserve and not a crowned fool. Do not mourn me if that- if I die.”

“Don’t say that!” she cried out forcefully, horrified at Thorin still speaking like he did not mind dying at all. “You will survive and you will finally rule your kingdom and you won’t ever be that foolish again! You will not repeat your mistakes and you will _live_.”

The Dwarf brushed away the tears that were threatening to spill down Billa’s cheeks and sighed.

“I promise you, my Halfling. I will fight and try not to die; I will stay and set all everything right that I have done. But do not cry for me. I do not deserve your tears and I do not want to be the cause of even more distress.”

With the last of his energy, he pulled Billa down until she settled in the crook of his arm as comfortably as either of them could and wrapped his good arm around her waist.

“Just, stay here for a while, I want you to be here if I wake…“ His voice drifted off and as Billa tilted her head up to look at him, she realized that Thorin had fallen unconscious again.

She sighed and leaned her head against Thorin’s shoulder, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The way his arm curled around Billa as she clung to his side reminded her of the happier evenings they had spent lying by the campsite, trying to fall asleep in the wild terrain, uncertain of what would come the next day, but still full of hope.

The memory made her heart ache and she clenched her fist around Thorin’s shirt. Would they ever get back to that? To the days when Thorin had been sweet to her, when he had smiled gently at her each time he turned to find her among the company, when she could recognise the worry he had for her well-being each time he scolded her and the angry stares were just something she could brush of with a laugh or a bow of her head and a promise to be better next time.

He had never mistreated her in any way, apart from harsh words and being stern, but that was just a facet of his personality and came from the years of having to be the king of a folk exiled from their home. Billa was more than willing to forgive and overlook that, and she had assumed that Thorin might soften after they had succeeded on their quest.

The way Thorin had changed as soon as Erebor was restored had been anything but pleasant. All the respect and sweetness in his eyes had vanished, replaced by the absent minded glitter or the same gaze he was directing at the gold. He had stopped speaking harshly to Billa, but he had also stopped behaving like the lovestruck and surprisingly bashful Dwarf she had found herself falling in love with.

His touch, once always gentle and sending pleasant shivers down her spine, had turned to something that made her shy away involuntarily or was hard enough to leave bruises, as if Thorin had forgotten or simply had not cared for the fact that he was holding something living and made of soft flesh and not unyielding metal or stone.

And now that the initial shock of nearly loosing Thorin had passed, Billa wasn’t certain if she could bring that upon herself again. It might be that the King would survive, and even though he had shown some remorse now it did not guarantee that he would feel the same after the fog of pain and battle lust had left his head.

And who said that she would be able to leave once she committed herself to staying by his side? Even if Thorin would stay like he had behaved before, it was unlikely that Billa would leave Erebor again. She had grown too fond of her friends among the company of Dwarves, and the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to return to Bag-End anyway, as her family would not wait for her forever. She’d have nowhere to go, she’d be trapped with a mad King if it came to the worst.

However, if she went right now, she would never see most of her new friends again, she would never know if Thorin, Fíli and Kíli truly survived their wounds or how well they had healed. News from Erebor would travel slowly, if they even reached the Shire at all. Billa would end up alone and worrying for her beloved, and Thorin might end up ruling his Kingdom while possibly believing that the Hobbit had abandoned him and was a traitor after all?

Billa listened to the slow heartbeat and the soft breaths coming from Thorin, concentrating on any changes and ready to leap up and call for help should it suddenly stop. She brushed her hands over the worn fabric of his shirt, and over the braids that lay across his chest.

There was no denying that she still loved him with all of her heart, that she still would do nearly anything for him, even if he did return to the way he was just the last evening. But Billa was not willing to sacrifice her heart just like that, for seeing what had become of her lover would break it even more than just knowing him dead.

She knew that she was already half way to forgiving Thorin everything he had done, it wasn’t his fault completely after all. But what if her judgement was clouded by the near deaths around her and the battle? What if Thorin could not help but fall for the weakness of mind that seemed to be part of his family?

She sat up a little, looking at Thorin’s face and just watching him for a long time. He used to look at ease in his sleep, his face relaxed as it rarely had been when he was awake and thinking of all of his burdens and duties. Now he was frowning and tense, the pain and worries finding their ways into his dreams.

Billa could not leave him like that, she did not want to leave him at all. She would stay, she decided then. She would make sure that everyone would live, she would try to help the Dwarves dealing with the Humans and Elves, she would stay and help restoring Erebor. But she would not treat Thorin like her lover. Let him fight for that right, let him work to earn back his trustworthiness and let him put effort into reclaiming the Hobbit’s heart.

Thorin did not need to know that Billa still loved him or had already forgiven most of what he had done, but it would do him good to have to fight for her and court her properly. And perhaps he would never mistreat her in any way again?

For some reason Billa had to think of her mother then. Her parents had been happy, despite being so different and she wondered if she would ever have that easy affection they had shared. She had no idea about what a Dwarf would consider proper in a marriage, apart from what she had experienced on the road. Would Thorin ever show such little signs of affections as her father had done with Belladonna? Like bringing her flowers after a long day? Taking the time to arrange some pillows around the chairs when he knew that she felt like making herself comfortable just that day? Saving the best bits of a meal for her? Or doing the dishes when there had been a great feast? But then, Thorin had been raised a prince and Billa couldn’t imagine him ever being asked to stand before a sink to clean silverware and pots. 

She stayed lying by Thorin’s side, thinking of this and that, watching over his sleep and running a soothing hand over his brow each time he twitched in or pulled a face at the pain. She kept her vigil, not moving from the King’s side at all.

That was how Oin found her when he entered the tent to check on his patients. He did not question the Hobbit as he noticed her watching over the still form of Thorin, just let her undisturbed after seeing that the king’s condition had not worsened.

She refused to move as the healer offered to bring her a stool or set up another cot for her to rest. She did not take the water or food offered, as she’d have to turn her attention away from Thorin for that and she declined the blanket, telling Oin that she was quite fine like that.

Oin left the tent then, being rather familiar with the sort of worry that made one forget one’s own lesser concerns in face of loved ones suffering. He asked the other members of the company to not call for the Hobbit to come out, and none dared to separate the woman from her king until the sun had set and the thin sliver of the moon was high above the Lonely Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they have had a talk and the next chapter will have the actual real AU and not just altered events... 
> 
> thanks to Inja for helping me out with writing this ^^
> 
> and thanks to you guys, for the sweet comments and the kudos *-* I'm still surprised about how much you like this fic


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning disturbed the silence that had settled over the camp of the Dwarves. Billa had not slept at all this night, despite of nothing important happening and her body starting to ache all over after the battle the day before. She had counted Thorin’s breaths in a stupor, expecting him or his nephews to wake up or their condition to worsen any moment.

It did not happen until it had dawned and the sun had risen high enough for the first rays to shine through the tents walls. Kíli's soft cries had startled Billa out of her daze and she had sat up to see what had happened to the young Dwarf. Before she could so much as start climbing down the cot, Óin had rushed through the entrance of the tent followed by Dori and Nori.

Billa watched the dwarves hurry over to the young princes’ cots, obscuring them from view, so she quickly freed herself from Thorin’s grasp and joined them. Fíli was still lying unconscious and apart from the little bit of skin visible between his bandages being shockingly pale, he seemed all right.

His brother, however, was squirming and sweating, moaning in pain with tears in his eyes. Óin didn’t say a word and looked the boy over, frowning slightly as he brushed his knuckles over Kíli’s glistering forehead. The other two dwarves positioned themselves around the cot, a grave look on their face. Billa stepped closer and watched in worry as Óin started to untangle the blankets that had wrapped themselves tightly around Kíli’s body.

She didn’t dare to ask what was going on, afraid of an answer and not wanting to bother the healer in his task. She did not know what she was expecting, as the previous wounds she had seen on Kíli had seemed rather severe to her but had been brushed off by him as nothing but a scratch.

The blankets finally came loose, revealing Kíli’s leg, wrapped in bandages that were crusted in old and new blood, setting free a biting smell that made Billa’s stomach turn. Óin made a disapproving noise and started cutting the bandages away to get a clear view on the wound. As soon has his hands touched the wound Kíli screamed in pain and his body jerked up, Dori and Nori immediately grabbing his legs and arms to prevent him from hurting them and himself as the healer went on with his task.

Not wanting to just stand around idly, Billa hurried up to them and took Kíli’s hot face in her hands, rubbing her fingers over his temples soothingly, as he wheezed out a string of unintelligible words. The wound on his leg was bright red, and even Óin winced sympathetically as it was revealed. Billa could just stare at it wide-eyed, for despite how little she knew about healing she was sure that the sickening smell, the inflamed skin and Kíli’s fever must mean that the dwarf had an infection. The wound was large, a nasty gash that went over his calf up to his knee, the red skin around it even reaching further up his tight. Could that already be bad enough for Kíli to loose his leg or, Eru forbid, his life?

She could not tear her eyes away from the wound as she held onto Kíli’s face, so she did not notice immediately that a hand on her shoulder was pushing her back and as she looked up she realized that Nori had let go of the boy to guide her back towards Thorin’s cot.

“Leave it lass, you can’t help here anyway,” the thief said calmly. Billa looked at him and then back towards where Kíli was gripping his blankets and squirmed as Óin cleaned his wounds and where Fíli hadn’t even stirred yet.

“You should go and rest, you have already done more than enough and you won’t be of any use if you pass out.” Nori was right, of course, so she nodded, shoulders sagging in defeat. She watched him walk back towards the other two and then turned to look at Thorin. The Dwarf King’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling above him; lips thin as he listened to his sister-son’s sobs. He seemed fine otherwise, but he was not paying attention to anyone’s presence.

There really was nothing else that she could help with right now, so Billa stumbled out of the tent into the sunlight and fresh cold air. She took a moment to bask in the warm rays and take some deep breaths to clear her head. She still felt weak from the ordeals of the last few days, having spent two days without sleep and one day without any food taking its toll, now that her mind was not preoccupied with far more pressing matters.

She sighed and decided to go and find some food, even though her stomach clenched at the idea of eating now, and she did feel rather sick. Billa walked past the smaller tents, looking out for someone she knew, but everyone who crossed her way was a stranger and watched the little Hobbit curiously. Most seemed to be Men who were more surprised than anything, but the dwarves from the Iron Hills all were whispering and staring at her.

This time she did take notice of that behaviour and it made Billa frown disapprovingly. Didn’t they know how rude that was? Perhaps these Dwarves simply had never heard of Hobbits, seeing as they lived much farther east than anyone Billa had met yet, and it could well be that they did not know what she was. On the other hand, their whispering and pointing was not that of good-natured curiosity at all. Was it possible that they had somehow caught wind of her role in the company and what she had done? Maybe they had heard of her giving away the gold from the Elves and Men that had fought by their side?

Billa bit the insides of her cheeks and quickened her pace to get away from the stares faster, angry at the possibility of having to defend her actions against total strangers who did not even know her at all. Her steps finally carried her towards a square between the tents, where hordes of Dwarf warriors were sitting around, talking among themselves in a language she could not understand, eating or cleaning their armour and weapons.

They looked up at her, and Billa could feel how more and more dwarf eyes started following her as she tried to spot her friends and walked through their groups. She was so short that she could hardly see far, even though the place wasn’t crowded and nearly everyone was sitting, and none of the members of the company seemed to be among them.

Just as Billa was ready to turn and hurry away to escape the stares, she noticed a dwarf in heavy armour march towards her. As he reached her he made a curt but deep and respectful bow.

“Dáin Ironfoot, son of Náin, of the Iron Hills, at your service,” he introduced himself and before Billa could remember to give him a polite reply he went on. “You are, of course, Billa Baggins, the Hobbit woman who has aided my cousin on his quest. From all of your great deeds I have heard of I would not have believed that you Hobbits are such peculiar tiny creatures. Even the biggest and strongest of warriors would struggle with achieving so many victories against such unlikely foes.”

Billa stared up at the Dwarf praising her in disbelieve. His face was covered in tiny scars and he had a tattoo on his cheek, iron rings and clasps peeked out from underneath his wild hair and there even were some on his eyebrow. He looked like someone who had seen many battles and had emerged victorious in each of them; if he hadn't watched Billa with admiration and respect in his expression, he might have intimidated her – and even now it made her nervous that such a person might think so highly of her before properly meeting before.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, curtseying. “And it was nothing really, I hardly had a choice in the matter. And I must thank _you_ , for coming to assist us in the battle–“

Dáin shook his head, dismissing Billa’s attempt to thank him. “None of that now, I see you still have no rested properly after the battle, and surely you came here for food?” She really wanted to leave that place full of strangers, her patience for taller folk staring at her having dried out after these past days, but she could not leave the dwarf who had helped them out in their need right now, without seeming terrible rude, so she nodded.

“Then come along, our kin has just started and there will be plenty left.” Dáin led Billa past the warriors on the ground, his arm extended so that it was nearly brushing her shoulders as they walked, but he was careful not to touch and push her. His glare and a few harsh words made even the boldest of Dwarves avert their eyes and nobody dared staring at Billa anymore, making her very grateful for the presence of the warrior by her side.

It didn’t take very long to walk past the warriors closer to the mountain, where a few tables filled with various maps and parchments of the Dwarven generals hadn’t been brought away yet. Screens had been put up, forming a large half circle close to Erebor’s walls, secluding and protecting the area from wind and sight, where any tent would have been too small.

As walked through an opening into the court, a wave of warmth hit Billa, and looking around she saw that fires had been lit and the remaining dwarves of the company were gathered around a table which was made for at least two dozens to sit at, and all were busy eating and drinking the large quantities of food before them. As they noticed Billa and Dáin approaching, they all stopped and cried out happily. Bofur jumped up to grasp her hands and make her sit by his side; Bifur shifted on the bench and was saying something incomprehensible and all were cheering and toasting.

“I am glad to see you up and about, Mistress Baggins!”

“Here, take some of this stew, you must be hungry!”

“I’m glad your not injured lassie!”

“Bring her something to drink, will ye’?”

“You’re _not_ injured, are you?”

“Ah, leave the poor woman some space to breathe!”

Hands patted Billa’s back and arms, and before she could blink she found herself with bowls cluttering the table’s surface before her and a warm coat draped over her shoulders. She managed a weak but sincere smile as she looked around to see her friends doing so well. They smiled back, reassured, and proceeded to talk and eat as before and Billa stopped paying attention to the buzz, turning to her food.

By now she was so ravenous that she did not care much for what she was eating and just concentrated on emptying the bowls as fast as she could while trying not to be too quick about it, lest the first proper meal that was no _cram_ made her sick. It was much better than what she had eaten since their departure from Laketown, and enough stew, dried fruit and pastries to fill a hungry Hobbit’s belly.

Bofur was sitting quietly beside her and watched her eat; pushing empty bowls away and new ones closer so she could reach them easier. When most of the food was gone from the plates, he handed Billa a jug with a sweet-smelling warm liquid, which she accepted with a grateful smile.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly after she had made a few sips. Bofur had leaned closer, and placed his hand gently over her elbow. Billa lowered the jug but kept her hands around it, enjoying the warmth, and tilted her head in question.

“Tired and worried for the health of all of you. But I am hardly harmed, of course! I would not go wandering around if I was feeling unwell, I’m more sensible than some others here,” she attempted to joke, but Bofur was still watching her with a strange expression.

“Bofur, I really am all right,” Billa said with a sigh, just as something tugged gently at her sleeve. As she turned her head to look, she realized that Bifur was attempting to say something in the alien language she still had not managed to understand at all, despite the many evenings she had seen the old warrior use it. He was also moving his hands, making gestures and pointing at her all the while.

When Billa glanced back at Bofur to wait for his translation, as she always did when attempting a conversation with his cousin, she did not get one, instead Bofur was giving Bifur a hard glare. The conversations around the table had grown quieter, too, and everyone was looking between the cousins and the hobbit, shifting uneasily in their seats.

“What?” Billa asked carefully, taking note of the strange shift in the previously so cheery mood. “Is there something I should know?”

The dwarves glanced between each other, unwilling to answer and it made Billa shiver. Did something bad happen or had she done something wrong again? Perhaps Bifur had tried to tell her that the other dwarves were still regarding her as a traitor, despite how they had acted immediately after discovering the Arkenstone and when she had returned from the battle. And now the others did not want to be too blunt about it?

But before her thoughts could venture further into that dark direction, Dáin put his drink down on the table, loader than really necessary, and startled everyone. As soon as Billa had looked up to meet his eyes, he smiled.

“So, Lady Billa. I must admit that I’m rather curious about you and your kind. The Iron Hills are far away from the lands you are from, and while I have often travelled in stranger’s realms I have never come upon a Hobbit. In fact, no Dwarf from my home seems to know anything about your folk, apart from you having a sensible size. Would you tell me of your kind and their ways?”

“Oh, well I can do that, I suppose,” Billa said while the tension seemed to leave her friends. She went on to describing the Shire and her family, answering as Dáin kept asking for details and about whether Hobbits shared certain customs he had already observed in the towns of Men.

As she talked about these topics that seemed to be far too trivial for even her friends to care about, Glóin and Dwalin leaned over to Bifur and seemed started talking to him in their language, sounding harsher than usual while Bofur seemed to try and sooth them. Bifur was talking faster and his gestures became wider, nearly knocking his jug over Billa, but eventually he stopped paying attention and just stared into empty space.

After having spend what felt like hours explaining about the various Hobbit families and how Billa’s parents went about their courting with the tale of her father building Bag End for her mother, Dáin seemed to be satisfied with what he had learned.

“So you are a remarkably brave and strong woman, especially among your own kind!” Billa’s cheeks reddened slightly at the praise. “I _really_ had no other choice but to be brave,” she muttered but Dáin waved her off.

“I have _seen_ you fight your way through the battle, if it weren’t for you, none of us would have been able to save the King and his heirs. Your bravery and presence on the field is what really saved my kin. And I have heard that you were under strict orders to stay away and in safety so it was indeed no matter of having no choice.”

She looked up at that and wondered where he might have seen her. Next to Dáin, Dwalin clenched his fists and glared.

“Strict order for sure. She shouldn’t ‘ave been there, might ‘ave gotten herself killed while none knew where she was. It’s hard enough to protect each other on the battlefield, and how’s one supposed to rescue someone who shouldn’t be there in the first place.”

“Peace, cousin,” Dáin interrupted him. “All went well and her presence bought us the few seconds we needed to get to Thorin and his nephews.”

Dwalin muttered something about royal idiots needing saving but said no more to Billa. The exchange made her realize that nobody had truly told her how Thorin, Fíli and Kíli had been saved so she inquired as soon as Dáin had returned his attention to her.

“Oh you should have seen it!” Ori, who had been very quiet and still looked exhausted, peeped up excitedly. “Lord Dáin was mowing down orcs and goblins with his axe as he charged forwards, followed by Beorn! And the enemies were scrambling over each other to get out of the way, the sight of a great bear and a bloodied Dwarf warrior being too terrifying. They reached the Defiler just in time, as he had hesitated a moment too long. Lord Dáin managed to put himself between the fallen Thorin and the Pale Orc, slaying him while Beorn kept the other ones at bay. When the Orc had fallen the creatures tried to flee but the battle was already won. Beorn carried Thorin away to safety and the princes were carried by the other warriors.”

He looked around and averted his eyes sheepishly as he noticed everyone watching him. Dáin seemed to be vaguely embarrassed by Ori’s retelling and Billa gaped at that.

“Then I must thank you and Beorn for managing to save Thorin and do what none of us could!” she exclaimed, gratitude for the Dwarf’s deeds making her heart clench. If it weren’t for him, the person that was dearest to her might have been killed right before her eyes.

“That was as much your credit as ours, Mistress Baggins. The Defiler would have killed my cousin if it weren’t for your presence and him seeing you. He wanted to take his time and drag out Thorin’s death as he saw you, letting him die with the knowledge that you would be next to die. Your choice to disobey your King and any voice of reason is what gave us the time to kill the Defiler.”

Billa snorted softly.

“And again with me making my choice. Believe me, there was no choice. It is not a question of choice, as I had none. When I walked out of Erebor’s gates I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing that I was a coward and had done nothing. As I saw that Th- they were in such grave danger, there was no room in my head for any choices to be made, I certainly wasn’t even aware of any alternate options. I _had_ to run and do all I could to protect them.”

The dwarves who had been watching Ori fondly turned their gaze to her and Billa’s cheeks heated up as she noticed that. Dáin stared at her with an expression as if he had figured something out and he gave her a crooked smile.

“You had to? I have heard about some of the things Thorin did, and even the most loyal follower of a king would most certainly hesitate to do as you have done. Especially as Thorin’s behaviour as such was shameful, but towards _you_ …” Dáin leaned back and his lips twitched as if he was trying not to laugh. “Anyone, even the King, must behave in an appropriate manner when dealing with one of your… status.”

Everyone visibly tensed up again, and Billa just stared at him wordlessly. She did not know why Dáin’s words had made her friends react, but she could not care less for trying to understand dwarves, so she nodded politely and returned her attention to the now cold jug in her hands.

Seemingly taking it as a cue for her being tired, Bofur suddenly rose from his seat and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You seem to have finished eating and one often gets sleepy from eating too much. Let me lead you back to the tents, you can take a kip if you want.”

Billa let him pull her up and shove her away from the table, while Bifur’s head snapped back to her and he growled something that sounded annoyed. Dáin watched the scene with amusement but rose to bow to her.

“Of course! I would not want to keep you in our company against your will. I wish you a good day.”

The dwarves all started shouting their goodbyes then, and Billa managed a small wave before Bofur had walked them out of the area. He was still holding her shoulder and he was walking at such a quick pace that Billa was struggling to keep up, nearly running. They walked for a while, and the grim look on Bofur’s face made Billa shiver slightly. She tugged at his sleeve to attempt to slow him down or get his attention, but he only walked quicker.

“What has happened? Bofur? Please tell me,” she asked quietly and the softness of her voice finally made Bofur slow down until they were merely strolling. He sighed deeply and glanced down on her.

“’Ts simply not right. The way they treat you, as if you’d actually want to stay and… forgive everyone.”

They walked in silence as Billa contemplated what he might have meant.

“I am not offended by how I have been treated so far. And I can’t actually see anything wrong in how everyone acts? I have noticed that most seem to behave strangely, but you have done it before, when I did something you had not expected. I have gotten used to not understanding why you Dwarves are doing what, not even after so much time in your company.”

Billa smiled up at Bofur, hoping to cheer him up a little by showing that she was fine, but the corners of his mouth did not rise even a little bit.

“I just worry about you lass. I fear that it is not my place to say such a thing… But I don’t want you to end up being unhappy because some false sense of loyalty.”

They had nearly reached the tents of the healers by now, and Billa turned on her heels to block Bofur’s way. He stopped, looking down on her with a pained expression. She took his hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t fear for my well-being, Bofur. I am not a tween anymore, I am a grown up Ladyhobbit and I do have enough sense for all of the company. I will not tolerate mistreatments just like that. I am not happy about how he acted towards me; but I am willing to forgive _if_ he truly deserves it, and only then.”

That seemed to reassure Bofur slightly, and Billa leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“I will be fine, I promise.”

“Aye, lass. I’m sure of it,” he finally smiled and clapped her shoulder.

Billa smiled and took a step back to resume her way. Bofur remained on the field, watching her go and disappear into the King’s tent, still smiling faintly but eyes shining in worry for the Hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, it's been a while... But the things called writersblock and Abitur (final exams) were in the way. I am sorry for making you wait and I am overwhelmed by how many people read/kudos/bookmark this!!! :') thank you! 
> 
> And my lovely muse Inja has started writing a sequel: http://archiveofourown.org/works/747266 I am not even entirely sure how _this_ story will end, but it's vague future has its own fic now ^^ you should check it out :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here it is, the next chapter, finally. I am so sorry for the delay, I can probably blame it on my graduation exams, trying to find a place in a university, writers block and general laziness... Thank you for everyone who stuck around, and hi to everyone who might have found this fic just now. I will try to update more often again! And now: enjoy :)
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> kurdinh : heart-lady

The battlefield was now mostly cleaned of their fallen and the cadavers of wargs, orcs and goblins. Their own, Elves, Men and Dwarves alike, had been carried to the mountainside to be buried or burned in honour, the foes had been dragged away and out of sight of the camps to be burned in a pile. Not everything could have been cleared away yet; pieces of broken armour and weaponry still had to be retrieved, and occasionally torn off limps were lying with them.

Looking out over the landscape, Bofur was sure that the thought of the battle’s remains and the deaths should have made him feel dreary, but somehow it did not look that much more terrible than the desolation it had been before. Perhaps he just hadn’t fully grasped the extent of the countless little tragedies that happened in every war, and maybe his feelings were just numbed; perhaps it was the relief about still being alive.

Or he was just too tired of it all. He had worked in mines for endless hours and wandered on unsafe roads to get from settlement to settlement and find work or help Bifur sell their toys, but never before had Bofur’s bones felt so heavy as they did after these past months.

Was it just the battle or had the journey itself done that to him? A part of him wanted to ask the others if they felt the same weariness, or Dwalin and Balin whether it had been like that in front of the gates of Khazad-dûm. But for once even Bofur could see that nobody was in the mood to discuss things like that, not with the near constant look of worry and reticence on everybody’s face.

The combination of the decade long presence of a dragon, the battle and the nearing winter had given the mountain and the surrounding area a grey and bleak look, but if Bofur squinted his eyes and tried to think of spring and blooming plants, it did give the impression of a place that could be potentially beautiful. Just like the kingdom under the mountain it still showed the potential for greatness.

With their leaders still dealing with the aftermath of the battle, nobody had talked much about what was to be done with the halls inside the mountain or even made plans for the restoration of Erebor and Dale. The soldiers who weren’t injured and the healers had decided to take matters into their own hands and started clearing paths from the gate to the former healing houses, the armouries, kitchens and some of the living areas, so that their wounded could be brought somewhere safe and warm.

Bofur had helped too, being one among those who had experience in judging the stability of rock and architecture, along those miner-turned-soldier dwarves from the Iron Hills and those who were just strong enough to lift the boulders and upturned statues out of the way.

He really wasn’t supposed to, with his head injury, and Óin reminding him that he should rest and not run about so much. But Bofur had just smiled, nodded, and then hidden his bandaged head beneath his braids and hat. No other healer knew him, so there was nobody to really bother him about it.

There wasn’t even that much to do which could have overtaxed him; the main destruction caused by the dragon was a straight line from the gate to the treasuries, all other walls or rocks had broken and crumbled from the earthquake-like shocks caused by Smaug and the many years of neglect. Other than that, the buildings were in surprisingly good order. The healing quarters hardly needed any fixing; the healers just demanded it to be cleaned and enough beds and equipment to be brought up before anyone could rest there.

And Bofur really wanted to have the healing quarters be accessible as soon as possible. There were too many wounded, and the thought of Thorin Oakenshield and his heirs dying was an ever-present concern. And then there was Billa.

Just thinking about her made Bofur’s already sombre mood sink a few notches more.

She had insisted that everything was fine after the battle, and she wasn’t more injured than one would be after falling and rolling down a muddy (and bloody) hill. She had smiled but her legs had been shaking and Bofur had never seen such a forlorn expression on her face. Not even the week before, when he had seen her looking at his king and her lover, and she had looked as if Thorin was breaking her heart. Or when he accused her of treachery after she had spent all night climbing down to the tall folk’s camps for their safety. Just to join the battle she should not have been in to keep her friends and him safe.

King or not, the thought of it nearly made Bofur want to knock Thorin’s teeth out. He had come to care for the gentle ladyhobbit who had complained about broken dishes and dirty floor so many months ago, and despite her insisting that she could take care for herself he had the urge to protect her. Bofur wished that he could accept that, but he had seen what love could make of people, had seen some of his more sensible friends nearly breaking from believing that the company they were keeping was good for them.

He had seen Billa standing up to Thorin’s mistreatment and demeaning behaviour, he knew that there was much more to a tiny hobbit than one would expect. But he also knew that even with Thorin surviving his wounds, and showing her all the respect she deserved, Billa would most likely still end up unhappy.

Bofur was a dwarf born into a simple family, descending from the old inhabitants of the Misty Mountains, and while they had spend most of his life in Longbeard settlements, none of them had much cared for most of their old customs. They were simple dwarves and most of the nobility’s traditions just never were relevant or interesting to Bofur. He had heard the stories of each of them, but never had he thought that they would play a role in his life.

When Billa had thrown the Arkenstone before Thorin, and shouted at him how she’d gladly give all the gold of Erebor and what valuables she had back in the Shire in exchange of saving his life, Bofur’s heart had simply ached for the woman and the hurt and anger in her eyes. Only later, when he overheard Balin and Glóin discussing it, did it occur to Bofur that Billa had essentially made herself Thorin’s wife and queen.

There were stories like that, where two lovers would officially be married through that, the will to give up their entire treasure for someone’s life being considered the highest declaration of love.

Bofur had never truly paid attention to the love ballads, and he had only snorted as Balin tried to explain it to him. Wasn’t that just common decency? Bofur never had much growing up, his parents, aunts and uncles always having to work a lot and rely on their children to help make ends meet.

He had learnt to consider gold and possessions as something more valuable than what they actually were, but he would never have hesitated to give it all up to save his parents, Bombur and Bifur, or even his many friends and companions he had met through the years. He’d rather have his family in absolute poverty than to have them die before their time.

All Bofur could see was that all the duties of being a Queen, like leading people that weren’t even her own and restoring a whole kingdom, would now fall to Billa without her even truly wanting any of it. She would most certainly not refuse the marriage coming with it, too, she hadn’t run from unasked responsibilities before and she wouldn’t do it now. Just like during the journey, Billa would stay and it broke Bofur’s heart.

Nobody should just _fall_ into a marriage like that, not after so few months. Nobody should be forced to stay in a kingdom they did not wished for, and Bofur knew how much Billa yearned for the hills of her home, as he had listened to her talking about it wistfully.

And if he – a dwarf who did not much care for the old traditions but a dwarf nonetheless – had not realized what implications Billa’s action had, then how could anyone expect her, a Hobbit with no previous connections to Dwarves, to know? There was simply no way of Billa actually wanting to _propose_ to Thorin like that, and Bofur was certain that she would have chosen her words more carefully had she known.

And Balin had actually dared to order them to keep it a secret from her. There wasn’t much that could make Bofur angry, but apparently when someone decided to do these things, he would never be alone. Balin said that Thorin insisted that he should be the one to tell Billa what had happened, as soon as he had the energy to talk for long enough. For that at least, Bofur was grateful. But still…

Balin had told them that he would have to handle the situation delicately, and Mahal only knew what sort of manipulation and politics would come in play to make the little hero of their quest Erebor’s queen. Bofur didn’t wish to keep this secret, but he needed to make sure that Billa could and would leave for the Shire without anyone holding her back. If Billa caught wind of any of it, she might decide that she had a duty, so perhaps it was truly the best course of action to not tell her.

Most of the company had agreed to keep quiet without any protest, and Dáin had been amused by the whole matter but hadn’t actually said anything. They didn’t mind Billa becoming Thorin’s wife or that all of it was just one big misunderstanding. Ori hadn’t minded and found all of it very romantic and Dori had scoffed but said that Billa was technically their queen, and shouldn’t be kept in the dark for too long. Nori had shrugged but not agreed to help Bofur either.

Bifur had actually gone so far as to actually try and tell Billa that she was now queen, that she had the right to demand respect, obedience and love of her new people. When Bofur had confronted him about it later, Bifur had simply replied that Billa should know all about her rights as soon as possible, and that he could not stand the thought of their queen and gentle Hobbit woman to be disrespected.

Bofur had groaned and pulled at his braids in frustration, until Bombur had quietly sat down by his side and told him that he too thought that it was unfair to assume and prepare to decide about Billa’s future behind her back. His little brother wouldn’t do much about it on his own, of course, but it had calmed Bofur down enough to let the matter rest for the day.

Now, a day later, the disappointment in his comrades still grated on his nerves but Bofur had resolved to make sure that his little Hobbit-friend would be able to return home and not be pressured into staying in any way, no matter what the others thought or did about it.

With it being late in the afternoon many of the soldiers were resting from their work of clearing the area and doing the hard work for the healers, most of them sitting in the groups they had worked in before. Bofur joined the ones he had seen before, Sialar, who was idly plucking at the strings of his lyre and Esker, who hardly talked but shared his self made sausages with everyone, which were made in the dry and spicy style of the dwarf clans that lived in the steppes east of the Iron Hills.

They sat in silence, the only sound being the music or the occasional request to borrow this or that tool from the other dwarves. Bofur was chewing on his sausage, lost in thought, when someone tapped his shoulder. He looked up to meet Esker’s light golden eyes.

“There,” he pointed towards where the camps of the Men and Elves were “Your Hobbit friend is walking back to our tents.” Bofur followed his gaze and noticed Billa, walking slowly at some distance, holding an oversized baggy coat in place with one hand. Bofur quickly got up and thanked Esker who waved it off and returned his attention to sharpening his knife.

He followed Billa, her slow pace allowing him to go slowly himself. He was not sure what she had been doing over at the camps of the tall folk again; perhaps she had tried to find and speak to Gandalf? He wanted to catch up with her, preferably before she returned to where Thorin and the princes were resting, as she’d surely be too preoccupied then to listen to anything he might say.

Bofur hadn’t been paying much attention to where she was going, loosing her out of sight a few times as soldiers passed between them or a tent or barrel was in the way, so seeing Billa standing by three strangers came as a surprise. He quickened his pace just in time to notice how the dwarves were looking at the small woman, with this mixture of curiosity, disbelieve and reverence that set off all of Bofur’s alarm bells. The company had promised that nobody would tell Billa of anything, and Dáin told his soldiers to not question Billa about her role in the reclaiming of the mountain, but that was no guarantee that someone wouldn’t let something slip.

When Bofur caught up with them, one of the dwarves, a tall one, wearing a dented but cleaned armour and his light blonde hair braided back neatly at the sides of his head and the one who stood closest to the Hobbit, looked up and grinned. Bofur glared at him as Billa turned her head, her expression the same she was always wearing when she was confused or irritated with the behaviour of any race that wasn’t familiar to her.

“Oh, hello Bofur” she greeted him, some relieve in her voice.

“Hello” he came to halt beside Billa, subtly placing himself so that he was between her and the other dwarves.

“You’re one of the Oakenshield company,” the blonde dwarf said, looking Bofur up and down curiously.

Bofur straightened his back slightly and glared back at him. “Aye, name’s Bofur. And who would you be?” Something about that dwarf’s impish expression made Bofur wary. Who knew what he had already told Billa or what his intentions were?

The dwarf raised an eyebrow at Bofur’s curt and nearly rude demeanour but he only bowed his head with a grin. “I am Bragi of the Iron Hills. Forgive me, me and my friends here were just curious about the heroes of Erebor. You lot are hard to track down with everything going on.”

He smiled and winked at them, at which the corners of Billa’s mouth twitched upwards and Bofur’s frown deepened. He really did not like that dwarf.

She looked up at the sky and then towards the gates of Erebor and sighed. “Well, it was very nice to meet you, truly. But it’s about time that I return, and I haven’t yet figured out the way through the mountain.”

“It was my pleasure to speak to you, my Lady,” Bragi bowed deeply and only straightened when Billa had already turned to move. Bofur followed her while looking over his shoulder at where Bragi and his friends where whispering about something. He glared at them one last time for good measure, before walking quicker to adjust his speed to Billa’s.

“So, what did they want? They didn’t bother you, did they? You know neither of us would let anyone do that?”

“Oh, they really didn’t do anything, it’s actually rather nice to speak to someone, rather than just being stared at wordlessly. And they were not bothering me with strange behaviour any more than I am used to, either.”

Bofur huffed at that. “So they didn’t… say anything about you not being a dwarf or anything insulting?”

Billa waved him of. “No, as if I’d let anyone do that anymore.” They walked a few steps before she added: “But they did keep using a word I do not know… It probably doesn’t matter and it didn’t sound insulting.”

“Which word?” Bofur asked suspiciously. Had these soldiers perhaps used some Khuzdul word that might have gotten Billa to realize why everyone was being quiet?

“Oh I don’t even remember how it sounded, and I’m sure that you wouldn’t even recognize it if I tried to repeat it.”

They walked past the tents towards the gates, Billa not saying a thing but looking generally calmer than she had the day before, and Bofur with a gloomy face, readjusting his hat ever so often as he was thinking about what that Bragi might have tried to do.

“What were you doing over there anyway? With the tents of the men and treehuggers? Looking for the wizard?”

“Not quite. I was representing the interests of the company and Erebor itself in the council. With everyone who has the proper authority to negotiate with the other Kings being too injured Thorin has given me the authority to deal with them. As a Hobbit I am not part of everyone’s hierarchies so I’m the best choice. Did you know that that Man, Bard the Bowman, is the descendant of the last King of Dale?

“Thorin is making you go to the negotiations in his stead?” Bofur asked sharply and glared at Billa. She noticed his stare but laughed.

“Oh on the contrary! Both Balin and me had to convince him that I am very capable of doing that. He wanted to keep me away and safe as he said, but both the elves and Beorn like me, so I see no reason for me to fail or be in any danger.” Billa shook her had as she watched Bofur pressing his lips together and not wanting to admit that Thorin wouldn’t have sent Billa to the elves by himself.

“You dwarves really are getting a bit possessive aren’t you?” she asked and raised an eyebrow at him.

They had reached the gates by then, so Bofur was saved from having to reply or even think one up in the first place. There weren’t many people about, and Billa seemed to follow the halls to where most of the healers were walking, occasionally stopping to look around and make sure that she was still on the right way.

They were walking deeper and higher up into the centre of Erebor, when Bofur recognized that Billa was purposefully walking to where the royal palace and the healing quarters were.

“They’ve already brought them up then?” he asked. He was sure that he’d have noticed when the royal family was moved into the mountain, but perhaps he had been busy working at that moment.

“Yes, Óin suggested that it’d be better to carry them now, as they’d get better much sooner after one short period of stress. And I don’t think that some jostling would have harmed them much at this point.” The tension around her eyes and her hard stare suggested that she thought otherwise, but Bofur chose not to comment on that.

He had heard of the boys’ condition, with Kíli obviously having an injury that would cause further complications and Fíli being too weak to even regain consciousness for any significant amount of time. While carrying them up might have been taxing, they really would recover quicker in a warm room and surrounded by solid rock on all sides.

The quarters Billa was heading for were a relatively small and simple building, but Bofur recognized some of the faded signs that marked it as belonging to the palace and the district of the royal household. Only few dwarves were nearby and inside, all healers by the look of it. They paid them no mind as Billa led him into the house and the rooms where their friends rested.

Closest to the entrance lay the brothers, and Billa rushed to their side to check if they were feeling any different. Bofur followed her, to see that Fíli’s cheeks weren’t as sickeningly pale as they had been when he saw the lad last, and Kíli was still flushed and twitching in his sleep, but much calmer. Whether it was from being actually better or just an effect of Óin’s tinctures, Bofur could not tell.

He watched Billa straightening their blankets and whispering reassuring words that most likely went unheard, before she turned to walk where they had placed the bed for the King.

There were screens, shielding most of it from view, but Bofur still turned away as Billa walked over to sit by Thorin’s side and how he sat up weakly, taking her hand in his and earning a small smile in return. He did not want to see Thorin being forgiven so soon, when he did not even deserve it in the far future, as far as Bofur was concerned.

“Are you well my kurdinh, did the elves treat you with respect?”

“Of course, they were even more pleasant than some other people I know. Not breaking my things first of all. But how are you? You must do all what Óin asks of you, don’t forget that.”

Bofur pressed his lips together and distracted himself by watching the healer in the corner grind and mix ingredients into a small bowl. She had pretty chestnut hair braided out of the way in a neat bun, and her hands were moving steadily as she worked.

He could still hear Thorin whispering something to Billa, and it made Bofur clench his teeth. He should do something to make sure that Billa was not manipulated into anything, neither by Thorin nor Balin nor any other nobles that decided that her being Queen would save everyone a lot of trouble. He should do it soon.

The pretty healer had finished what ever she had been doing and carried both the bowl and a jug of water to but it on a nightstand by Thorin’s side.

“You must drink this every five hours, your highness,” she said with a respectful and nervous little bow. “You mustn’t miss it out, and do not leave anything in the bowl; I will certainly check if you drank all of it.” Her voice was very no-nonsense as she talked, despite her very clearly being unused to addressing anyone who was of the royal family. As the healer lectured Thorin on how to take the medicine, Billa glanced up at Bofur with a smile.

“Thank you for accompanying me up here, Bofur.” She looked as if she wanted to add something else, to not seem dismissive of him, but in that moment the healer walked back to her workstation and Thorin’s hand curled around Billa’s fingers, distracting her from the miner.

Bofur sighed and turned away. He wasn’t sure why he had decided coming up here anyway, apart from seeing how his former companions were doing with his own eyes. The pretty dwarrowdam had gathered up her supplies and unused dressing material in several baskets and was making her way outside, so Bofur joined her.

“Might I be of any help with these?” he asked, tipping his hat slightly and pointing at the baskets as they exited the building. The healer’s face was a friendly looking one, with little freckles to match her hair. She shrugged slightly and handed Bofur some of her load with a ‘thank you’ and a grateful smile.

The two dwarves walked side by side back towards the camp and Bofur’s mood was slowly returning back to his normal, cheerful state.


	8. Chapter 8

The task of clearing enough space within the mountain to let Dáin’s entire army stay in its shelter had been finished only a few days ago, and now some of the soldiers helped restoring the less vital parts of the districts and anything that didn’t require the work of experienced stonemasons. A few had decided to go and help the humans build shelters to last the winter at the place where the ruins of Dale stood. But most were taking the time to heal and relax after the battle.

Nori had joined some of them in the evenings, walking between the different groups that had established themselves, drinking with the soldiers and watching their behaviour. He didn’t know any of the officers or professional warriors, having never really stayed at places any of their kind would lower themselves to. However, he didn’t recognize any of the thieves, rouges and small-time crooks he’d met before either.

He wasn’t sure if that should reassure him or not; on one hand none of the scoundrels Erebor’s future guards would have needed to keep an eye were there, one the other hand _all_ of the soldiers who wanted to stay were potential criminals that Nori would have to assess.

Right now Nori was content to let them all be and go about their business. The few he had any contact with were all simple but honourable dwarves, most of them fathers or children from larger families. They came to were Dori had started to set up the future home he had chosen for himself and his brothers, as Ori had offered to write letters for any of the soldiers who couldn’t themselves for free, as both he and the Ravens who’d carry the messages were pleased to practice their trade once again.

Most of them just wanted to let their families know that they had survived and were unharmed, others asked for news from their homes, and Nori overheard at least two who asked Ori to write and ask their families if they wanted to settle in Erebor once it was made habitable for civilians again.

Both Dáin and Thorin had discussed the issue before, agreeing that any Dwarf helping to reclaim the mountain would be offered a secure home within Erebor, for them and their entire family. Everyone who had lived in the mountain before the dragon came would be able to get their old home back, but there weren’t many left who would want everything to be just like it was before the exile.

Other than talk of family and starting a new life in Erebor, the favourite topic of all Dwarves, and even a handful of Men, was the story of Billa Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield. It was also the one topic they had been asked _not_ to mention at all (apart from not being too rude about elves within their earshot if they could help it and it wasn’t too much trouble to not insult them). Of course, it only served to increase the interest in it, but at least most soldiers did not approach Billa and were content to gossip among themselves.

The company wasn’t that much better though.

Ori found all of it very romantic, the story of how a hobbit lass and a dwarf king fell in love, saved each other’s life so many times and overcame literal armies to finally earn their happiness. And Dori had agreed to keep quiet but he had grumbled about how Billa shouldn’t be kept in the dark about her new status as royalty and be left to rest from all the exertions of the past months.

Though, not everyone in the company was content to keep quiet as Balin had asked. Bombur wouldn’t say anything either way, but Bofur had argued against it vehemently, nearly going so far as to actually shout at Nori when he had refused to help him do anything against the matter without the company stopping them. Unlike Bifur, the toymaker didn’t simply want Billa to know that she was their Queen to demand an appropriate treatment, he actually wanted to prevent Billa to be tied to the mountain and their King by a false sense of duty and traditions that weren’t her own, as he had called it.

Bofur had raged about how none shared his opinion and declared that Nori did not care for their little friend’s well-being and that he was selfish and trying to get into Balin and the King’s good books before stomping off towards the kitchens, to rant at Bombur most likely.

Nori didn’t mind that his friend hadn’t spoken to him since then, he had had worse arguments for less defined reasons. And despite Bofur’s claim that he was indifferent about Billa’s happiness, he worried about the Hobbit a great deal.

Well, perhaps ‘ _worried_ ’ wasn’t _quite_ the right word to describe it, as that’d imply that Nori thought something bad might happen to upset her. Other than her fretting over the princes, the king and their kingdom, there wasn’t much that might harm Billa now. On the contrary, once Thorin and his nephews were up on their feet, she’d finally be truly happy and at least be able to relax from her constant worries.

The ancient custom that had made Billa their Queen seemed silly when one tried to apply it to someone who didn’t even know of it, but it still was a good solution, made everything quicker, without all that nasty legal business that a wedding and a royal courtship would bring. And this way the company wouldn’t need to ensure that all other Dwarves knew what a wonderful Queen they’d get and that the Hobbit was actually worth of Erebor. Everyone had heard of the proposal in that way, and also of Billa’s role during the quest.

It also sped things up when it came to the actual courting. Especially with royalty and such important unions, a courtship could last ages, and from what Nori knew of Hobbits he was sure that Billa wouldn’t like a traditional Dwarvish one. Too long, too dry, too boring. And that’d be only _after_ Thorin would have finally made himself propose to her properly.

It wasn’t like the two of them weren’t already fucking anyway, there were at least three occasions during the quest in which Nori had been sure that their leader and their burglar had just come back from a little private fun time. In itself that was only to be expected from two lovers, and Nori would have done the same in the boredom of some of these days, but there _was_ the chance of them not being careful Billa getting knocked up. Again, nothing _that_ many people would mind, but with the _King_ being the father it was better that such things happened within a happy and secure marriage, otherwise there would be whispers and doubts about it.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Billa and Thorin loved each other and would soon learn to deal with and forgive all that had nearly transpired right before the battle. Nori had witnessed far nastier arguments that had actually lead to the couple involved hurting each other, but still remaining by each other’s side. He remembered being a little child and wondering how one could be happy with someone they shouted at so much, until his mother had explained that being happy with one’s friend or partner wasn’t about never starting to fight, but about knowing how to kiss and make up and not repeat the exact mistake again.

Thorin would never make the mistake of valuing his gold and treasure over Billa again, he would be a good husband once it came to that. And Billa wouldn’t wait so long before telling Thorin that he was doing something that upset her again, she’d call him out on his behaviour before it would escalate. Whatever stupid things both of them had done to put a strain on their bond, they’d overcome it.

There _was_ one aspect about Nori’s interest in all of this that people _might_ consider to be selfish. Once Billa was the Queen Consort she’d be in charge of some of the duties that would otherwise have fallen to Balin and the other politically inclined Dwarves, one of them being the one the Spymaster reported to. That was the position they had promised Nori when they talked about what they could offer the rebuild Erebor once they reached it, the one Thorin had said he’d need Nori to fill.

And Nori would _much_ rather deal with Billa Baggins than Balin son of Fundin or any of the annoying lawmen and paper-shufflers he had met back in Ered Luin. She was sensible, he was fond of her and they _were_ colleagues of sorts. Working with her would be an actual joy.

He would have to make sure that she was fine during the time of the mountain only barely being habitable once more. For that purpose Nori would try and casually be where she was at random times of the day, when there were not too many Dwarves or Men about, and especially nobody from the company. Billa would always do her best to pretend that everything was perfectly all right, to not seem like a burden or worry anyone. And she was very good at it, too.

No, it was better to catch her off guard, or make sure she wouldn’t feel like she needed to hide whatever was bothering her. Just as she did now, when Nori managed to intercept her on her way from some of the cleaning sites towards their quarters and the healing house.

She did look tired and frustrated, but not that much more than Dori did when there was an unusually high amount of work to be done. Nori had long ago decided that it was just the sign of anyone who liked things to be done on time, perfectly _and_ neatly.

“Greetings, fair burglar,” he called as Billa walked by, startling her out of her thoughts and earning a small smile in return. “Have you been outside working again?”

“Yes of course I was. There’s so much to do, with the Men and Dwarves trying to decide who will work where and who and how much shall go and help them build or repair houses over where Dale used to be? And the food rationing, too…” She waved her arms, indicating that it was all a great bother. Nori smiled sympathetically.

“Is everything all right with you?” he asked as he adjusted his pace to match Billa’s way and speed. “Are they making you work too much?”

“No no, of course they don’t! I’m even sure Thorin would physically keep me from going if he could,” she reassured him quickly.

“The work itself is not hard at all,” she said with a shrug. “It even reminds me of home, with trying to get family members who don’t like each other get along, or helping to organize a party. Granted, there’s never been as much at stake as it is here…” Billa’s face darkened at the words but she went on chatting. “But really, it’s easy to forget that once you’ve started working. And we really must get everything done as soon as possible, what with winter already so close!”

Nori smiled at that. Their Queen-to-be was acting just like Dori, but at least she wasn’t quite as overbearing.

“You tell me if anyone’s trying to make you do things that really aren’t your responsibility? Tell me or anyone of the company if someone’s giving you trouble or not doing what you tell them to. We will make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Billa glanced up at and then burst out with a little laugh as she saw Nori’s expression.

“Oh, you really would intimidate them for me? Or do you just miss the opportunity of showing off your knives to someone who hasn’t seen them yet?”

“Of course I want to do that! But if I do it claiming that I just want to protect my dear burglar and colleague, I’ll look like that good guy.”

“There is nothing you can claim to be that will make you look completely innocent, not to me. You Dwarves are _always_ up to something.”

She smiled and already looked a little more relaxed than she had before. Nori bit his lip to suppress a smile of his own, so she wouldn’t tease him about it later. He really would do anything to protect her, and more than just because of the loyalty he owed her after all she’d done on the quest and being the Queen. Somehow Billa had managed to make him nearly as protective of her as he was of Ori.

“Everyone _is_ treating you well, right?” Nori watched her face closely as she frowned and pressed her lips together.

“Well… I am not sure if it is just how Dwarves are or if it’s not…” Billa glanced to the side uncertainly. “Some just behave weirdly? Maybe they’ve never seen a Hobbit, or are unused to one like me giving orders? But some are downright rude by Shire standards, with their staring and all. Some ask me personal questions that I’d really not discuss with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

Billa shook her head firmly as Nori opened his mouth.

“I don’t want you to deal with them! It is nothing, really. Just…. the unfamiliar way of Dwarves.”

From Billa’s words alone, Nori was sure that it was simply Dáin’s soldier’s reaction to a Queen from strange lands who they couldn’t even address as such. Nothing serious but it’d be better to have Billa know of it as soon as possible, lest one of them accidentally slipped up. If Thorin took too long confessing, Nori would have to do it himself.

“All right, I will try to simply listen around to see if it’s really just the brashness of our folk. Let me know of they don’t stop.”

Billa nodded, relief in her eyes.

“That would be very nice, thank you. I must go and see how… how everyone’s doing. I’ll see you at dinner?”

Nori nodded and was about to turn into the corridors that lead towards the gate, when Billa turned back again.

“I just have one more question, though I’m sure that you mustn’t answer.”

Nori raised his eyebrows.

“Oh? What is it?”

“It’s about your secret language. Balin said that you aren’t allowed to teach anyone about it, but there are just some words I’d like to know about.”

Billa looked around until Nori stepped closer to her.

“There’s something… that is… What is the word for Hobbit or Halfling in your language? Of all the things I’ve been addressed as, there are some that might mean just that? I have tried to remember each and I’m sure I’d know it by the sound?”

Nori smirked slightly and watched Billa’s questioning and serious face. He couldn’t tell her what exactly she probably had been called but…

“Melekinh is the word for Hobbit. I won’t tell you more, though, unless you want one translated back into something you understand. And be careful about how you use it, there are similar words that have a very different meaning. Remember it and don’t let anyone tell you wrong translations.”

Billa mouthed the word, and nodded when she was sure that she would remember it. She gave Nori a hard look, considering what he had said. Then she frowned and turned to walk away.

A tiny smile spread on Nori’s face as he watched her go. If Thorin took too long with telling her, he would make sure that Billa would find out on her own very soon, without anyone being able to blame _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this was giving me trouble due to not knowing where to end the chapter, starting university and then other plot bunnies striking alongside writing blocks? I hoped to have Billa's Point of View here, but then I didn't know where to _end_ his! oh dear... she will be here next chapter, I promise  
>  thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos or is still reading :'3  
> and to Inja for encouraging and proofreading


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is some talk about the injuries Kíli got in battle and what the consequences might be, like scars and loosing a leg

It felt as if someone had filled an entire bag full with rocks and strapped it across her chest with too tight belts. Just the exhaustion, Billa kept telling herself, just the nerves after the battle. It wasn’t though, not truly.

She didn’t work as much as the Dwarves, physically, and both the Men and Elves were reasonable and good enough to have calm and good negotiations with. There wasn’t _really_ a thing that should have made her feel this way.

And yet.

Simply ordering around the soldiers, who started working on removing the worst of the debris and restoring enough living space until the masons and architects arrived was all right with her. She could easily handle that. It was the constant staring and the whispers, which grated at her patience, Billa was sure that nobody was actually insulting her but it still wasn’t something she liked being subjected to.

Most of the time she didn’t even understand what everyone was saying, sometimes it sounded like Westron, sometimes like a language sounding like nothing she had heard before, and occasionally it was the Dwarvish language. Nobody would offer an explanation for what they were saying, and Billa didn’t really dare to ask, unsure whether she’d like what she’d hear.

She hoped it wasn’t anything disrespectful at least, or nothing too different from the things she was able to understand. The words were hard to keep apart, but Billa had always practised new languages and tried to teach herself to keep apart the nuances and the pronunciation of each word. She memorized what was repeated over and over, in case she’d ever get the chance to learn.

The two words she heard the most were very similar in sound, so much so that she had been certain it was the same for quite a while. The first one simply was their word for ‘Hobbit’, as Nori had explained, and could be explained by it being used mostly by Dwarves who had never been far enough into the West to ever see one before or learn the Westron word. To find out what the other meant, Billa would have to ask someone else, or more likely find it out subtly as her other Dwarves wouldn’t be as quick in giving up their secrets as the thief had.

It was the least of Billa’s problems now, however curious she was. She tried to ignore whatever looks were directed at her and go on about her work, discussing who and how would help clean up Erebor for the living space, and how much gold the Men needed and how they would go about rebuilding Dale. This had to happen as quick as possible, before the first heavy snowfalls came and any work would have to wait till spring.

Talking about who needed how many rations of food and where to get enough for both the Men and Dwarves and also the Elves who’d stay to help was worrying her too. Billa had thought that the mere idea of winter should not bother her anymore, but these talks brought back bitter memories of her father talking to her family about what to do during the Fell Winter. It did look like the food would run short to her, just as it had back then.

And with the hunger the cold and death by freezing would be there, just like hungry animals daring to attack and the need to fight them off…

Then there were the boys.

The healing quarters used for them had been equipped to be a place one could actually live in fine, with a separate room and bed for Billa – which she rarely used as she wasn’t able to sleep from worry or wanting to make sure that her Dwarves were all right – and Thorin could already sit up enough to look through some of the contracts and letters Balin brought him to read through.

Both he and his nephews were doing very well under the circumstances, the healers had told Billa, and she knew that there were so many others hurt far worse than them but still alive. Everyone said that there was little chance of their health worsening or their wounds to cause further complications, but sometimes Billa would hear Balin and Óin discuss it with worry in their voice and she would see how some of the healers would look hopeful and yet concerned when bringing new bandages and medicine, or when they walked in to check on them in the thought that everyone there was asleep.

It made Billa the more nervous each time someone told her not to worry about them. She remembered the same happening in her childhood with an older family member being sick or just too old, and she knew that often enough they would die anyway.

This wasn’t the same, couldn’t be the same, in her childhood and youth it had been Hobbits, frail and with a long and fulfilled life behind them, not Dwarf warriors at their prime and recovering from battle wounds. She knew nothing of that, but she knew that nobody would tell _her_ otherwise. Her friends would want to spare her and the healers who might not have cared otherwise saw her like somebody close to the princes and especially to their King. No matter how Dwarves and Hobbits differed, any healer would try not to crush the hopes of the lover or close family member of the patient.

It made Billa afraid to leave their bedside, but it also made her wish to never have to return, to never have to stand in front of the doors, bracing herself to enter and the excruciating moments when the little voice inside her head would ask her what she would do if either of the princes or Thorin had died while she was away.

Today she was spared the later part, as she could hear Kíli’s voice even before she crossed the threshold, and he did not sound too upset. And really, when Billa entered the room where the princes lay, they both seemed even better than they had that morning when she had to leave.

Kíli was propped against a bunch of pillows and rolled up blankets, so that he could lean against them in a comfortable position without actually having to sit. He was complaining about the taste of something the healer made him drink, but still bravely worked on emptying the cup.

Fíli was tucked under an enormous pile of furs, his face barely sticking out from underneath it all, but he still shifted and smiled groggily at Billa when he noticed her entering. He was still weak and often felt cold, but apart from sleeping way too much he seemed to have no other obvious issues with his health.

“Billa! Oh thank the Maker, are you here to save us?” Kíli’s face had brightened up as soon as he saw her standing in the doorway. “They’re trying to poison us, quick, you must stop them and save us!” he said in a stage whisper, but quickly returned his attention to his cup after noticing the healer’s stern look.

The familiar cheer made Billa smile slightly. Through all this Kíli hadn’t changed too much, and while it still bothered her how he would downplay everything it calmed her that it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t even do that anymore.

“There’s no help you can expect from me, unless you ask me to bring you more of your medicine,” she said, fighting to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching. Kíli pulled a face at her but dutifully sipped at the mixture while she walked over to the fireplace to check on the firestones that always lay near it in a pot of hot water.

“Do you feel cold?” she asked turning to Fíli, who nodded weakly and pulled one of the furs over his face. Billa sighed slightly and bent down to wrap one of the stones in a wide bundle of cloth before walking over to the bed to find which of Fíli’s blankets was actually covering him and not just other blankets.

The healer packed the rest of his bags and medicines into a basket and nodded to Billa before walking out and return to wherever else he was needed. Billa watched him go, her eyes lingering on the basket and the old bandages that were still visible underneath the equipment. So they had to change them more often now? Billa was certain that Kíli’s leg only needed new dressing once a day now, and they had done so just that morning.

It was probably nothing, she told herself, her eyes wandering over to the big lump under Kíli’s blanket where his leg was supported and surrounded by pillows, so that it was comfortable but would not shift around too much.

“How do you two feel then?” she asked, forcing herself to smile cheerfully enough to be of some comfort for them. Fíli returned the smile when Billa adjusted the furs around him, weak and sleepy still, but now that his face wasn’t white as chalk all the time it didn’t worry her too much anymore.

“Wonderful! Really, I shall be dancing on the battlements in no time!” Kíli piped up, grinning over the edge of his cup. “In fact, that’ll be the very first thing I’ll do once they deem me capable of leaving this bed.”

Billa raised her eyebrows at him with a stern look, just to be sure in case Kíli actually planned to do something like that and wasn’t just joking. He didn’t usually throw himself into danger or stupid situations when he knew it was a bad idea, but that might be one he didn’t recognise as such. And Billa had already seen Nori and Gloin climbing around there, for a better view, with Gloin pointing out all the places things used to be before Erebor fell, which was understandable, but it still made Billa shiver to watch them do that. Better not have Kíli anywhere near there until at least the next summer.

Kíli smiled sheepishly at that and returned to the last of his medicine. He was done in a few big gulps and a grimace, then proudly showed Billa that it was empty in case she doubted it.

“I’m sure they’ll soon let you move around a little,” she reassured him, taking the cup with some sweet-smelling drops still clinging to the inside. She didn’t recognize the smell, perhaps Óin had decided that Kíli needed some new medicine, but she wouldn’t ask about it.

“I’d rather be doing something now,” Kíli muttered and stared at the blankets. “I should be at least helping with cleaning up the mountain, like the others do.”

Billa sat down at the edge of his cot and patted his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, there’s not much work to be done anyway, all that we can do before Dáin’s masons and architects arrive is nearly finished anyway, and it really is just a question of finding comfortable and save places to live in for the moment.”

“Everyone else was helping too, it feels wrong that I can’t get up and help with anything.”

“You fought and got injured, nobody else who had wounds got up to help either. See it as a well deserved rest,” Billa suggested, remembering how much she had hated being sick and not able to leave her bed in the past. Kíli’s situation wasn’t anything like it, but it was better to have him see _some_ merit in it, so he wouldn’t do as Billa had when she was a child, wandering out of bed despite a fever, something she hoped Kíli wouldn’t think of doing.

“What little there is to be done would be organising future repairs, you know how boring that will be for you, and me and Balin are doing fine anyway.” Kíli smiled sadly and shrugged. “It will be better in spring, I promise. There won’t be much going on within Erebor till then, and you will be healthy enough to realize just how much you don’t want to be in the middle of that chaos.”

She allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction at the laugh it earned her. Kíli shifted a little in his bed as Billa adjusted his pillows too, being very careful not to jostle his injured leg. There was a tension in his shoulders as he did that, and his teeth were clenched just the same way when Kíli was trying to make everyone else believe that he was all right.

“Does it hurt much?” she asked carefully, glancing at the blankets that hid Kíli’s legs from view.

“A little. It’s just uncomfortable and sometimes I even forget that I shouldn’t move it too much,” Kíli replied with a shrug. “It’s healing nicely though, they said it’s not as bad as it could have been.”

It was worse than usual then, Billa thought and her fingers clenched against the pillow. She shouldn’t worry, it probably still meant that Kíli was doing fine, every illness and wound would have its own complications and surely it was normal to have at least one of them during the healing time.

Kíli’s eyes widened a little as he noticed Billa’s expression, despite how she tried to keep it calm and not have him worry on her behalf.

“It’s nothing, my leg will be all right!” he tried to reassure Billa and gave her a crooked grin. “If anything, the scar will make me really popular among the Ladies. It’ll be big enough that everyone will instantly know how I got it, and they’ll near instantly assume that it was _this_ battle.”

Billa forced her fingers to uncurl and tried to smile back at the young Dwarf. Of course, scars wouldn’t ever truly bother them, and it was endlessly better to have a scar to show what one had been through than to struggle with the consequences of the injury.

“I wouldn’t even be that bad if they’d have to cut that leg off,” Kíli went on, voice a little quieter and brows furrowing. The words made Billa feel as if her heart had stopped for a second. _Cutting it off_. She had not dared to think of such a thing happening, she had always hoped for Kíli to just not die, for all of them to live, but she had try not to think of what else might happen.

Kíli grinned again, shrugging it off.

“That would be great too I suppose, an actual artificial leg would be just as good. I could forge it myself, or at least make the ornaments; there wouldn’t be a doubt of me being a great warrior then. Did you know that Dáin has one too?”

The way he spoke about it, as if it did not matter at all, as if cutting off and loosing an entire limb was just another everyday occurrence… Billa felt her blood run cold and her stomach clenched. The thought of Kíli having to loose his leg, of them just removing it as there was no way of saving it, was enough to make her feel like throwing up.

“How can you say that?” she whispered, and then a little louder “Don’t think of it, you will be all right.”

“Of course! Learning to walk on such a leg isn’t that much harder than recovering from injury I think. And it’s definitely a better result. I could choose a byname for myself then, or Fíli will, he always has the best ideas.” Kíli glanced over to where his brother was asleep, a slightly wistful look in his eyes. “And he could choose one for himself too, every King and Prince should have another title to be known under.”

“Kíli-“ her shoulder felt so tense that it hurt, and Billa had to stop herself from grabbing Kíli’s arm. “Kíli, are you actually _looking forward_ to having your leg–– to this?”

Before Kíli could do anything more than to open his mouth for an answer, the door creaked open behind them and Balin appeared, glaring at the young prince.

“This is quite enough, laddie, you should be sleeping and let the medicine do its work, not chatting Mistress Baggins’ ears off.”

Kíli ducked his head with a sheepish smile, and pulled the covers to his chin like he was a young child. And perhaps this really was a habit he had kept from his childhood, when he was a lad and Balin helped his cousin raise the princes. Imagining that calmed Billa enough to chase the thoughts of having the princes suffer more from her head, so that she was able to look more or less composed as she stood up to walk to the door.

Even so, the old Dwarf must have sensed that there was something wrong with her, as he watched her approach without even trying to hide the worry on his face.

“Is everything all right, lassie?” he asked quietly, just before she reached the door so that she was the only one to hear.

“Of course, just tired from the work and the commotion in the mountain,” Billa replied with a smile that hopefully didn’t show just how tired she was. “You know how it is, dealing with a bunch of Dwarves who just won’t listen to what you say or misunderstand simple questions all the time, and working on terms of an alliance isn’t simple either. Truly, I have a new-found respect for you and your craft now.”

Balin didn’t seem entirely convinced but he let the matter rest, stepping aside to let her enter the room. Thorin looked a little better than he had the weeks before, though he still was gaunt and exhausted from everything, and displeased about not being let out of bed at all.

As he saw her enter, his eyes lit up and he sat up a little straighter, reaching out with right arm slightly.

“My heart, I am glad you are back. Come join me, you can’t go on like this without any rest. You shouldn’t do anything but rest at all!” Billa gave him a smile, and it finally didn’t feel the least bit forced, after trying to make everyone overlook how tired she was all day.

“I can’t just leave everyone without supervision,” she muttered as she sat down at the edge of the bed, placing her hand on the blankets where Thorin curled his fingers around hers immediately. “I know what will happen if I leave you Dwarves to do as you please.

Thorin chuckled softly at that, inclining his head and giving in without any further argument. He had gotten used to Billa constantly chiding the Dwarves, and most of the time he hardly even argued in jest.

“I see that we can’t convince you to stay without the healers’ help then. Stubborn, just like any Dwarf.”

“You Dwarves are nothing compared to my cousins, Thorin, I had a lifetime to learn my stubbornness and no opportunity to use it.”

Billa let herself be pulled closer, so that she was leaning against the pillows and as much of Thorin as possible without causing him pain. At first Thorin had always hesitated before even touching her hand, and trying to embrace her even more so. It wasn’t something Billa had particularly minded, though she had worried about his injuries. Just him being so cautious about anything was nice, and soon he wasn’t as cautious about this sort of things.

Balin had remained by the door, neither leaving, as he would do sometimes, nor entering and pulling it shut behind him, as he did when there was something to discuss. He stared at Thorin with a frown, as if he was waiting for something. Thorin glared back and jerked his head slightly, leading to Balin bow with disapproval on his face and then walk away.

“What was that about?” Billa glanced up at Thorin, but he only shook his head.

“Business and diplomacy I’d rather not be dealing with while they won’t even let me leave the room on my own. And not in the few hours I have with you,” he reassured her and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. Billa hummed slightly, not convinced but also caring enough to try and find out.

They sat like that for a little while, before Thorin started to worry about how she was doing once again.

“Are you sure that doing this work is fine? Does anyone ask too much of you? Of course, you working at all is already more than enough.”

“No, not at all.” Billa shook her head. No matter how much she’d be reassuring him, Thorin would worry and she had gotten used to that. Though it was a good opportunity to find out about the strange behaviour.

“There is one thing,“ she started slowly, making sure that she remembered what she wanted to ask and to not make it seem like it was on her mind a lot. “It’s nothing bad, just… Sometimes I get called things I don’t understand. It doesn’t sound bad, I would just like to know what it means.”

“What things are those?”

“Well, there’s one word I hear all the time, in your own language. Melhekhinh it was, if I pronounced it right.” Billa tilted her head to look at Thorin, only to find him stare back in with a horrified expression.

“Who calls you that?”

“Nobody in particular, just a random thing I keep hearing. What does it mean?”

“Nothing bad, you’re right with that.” Thorin smiled, but it didn’t look as genuine as before. “It just means ‘Hobbit Lady’ in our language, and they really shouldn’t go around making you wonder like that. I will ask Balin to see that this doesn’t happen anymore, if that is your wish?”

Billa shook her head and leaned back into him, turning her head just so that he wouldn’t quite be able to see her face. Why would he lie about such a thing? Nori had already told her what Hobbit meant, and he had no reason to lie, in fact, he had hinted at it being likely that someone else would do so instead. And from the way Thorin had acted it was clear that he was the one not telling her the truth.

It stung a little, to have him lie to her like that, but at the same time it only made her want to find out even more.

Not right now though, right now the fatigue of the day had finally caught up with her, and Billa couldn’t even bring herself to do anything but sit there and listen the quiet humming of Thorin’s voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, for once all I wanted to be in the chapter actually fit...  
> also, about the last one, Nori wasn't lying to Billa


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there is a mild panic attack at the end

There were things that could only be reached with patience, while waiting for the right opportunity to happen, or for the circumstances to align so that the results were at the most beneficial to yourself. The latter was especially relevant for politics, and more than once Balin had simply needed to wait for a while, before others did what he expected them to, or what he wanted them to do. Generally a few gentle nudges into the right direction would get him results. 

Not often did he reach the point where he actually tried to make somebody behave how he wanted them to by bluntly telling them to get over themselves, and that everyone knew they would do something, no negotiating or threats would make it better anyway. In this case that point was reached far quicker than ever before, even though there wasn’t anything of great impact at stake.

Perhaps it was precisely because this time it _wasn’t_ about politics that Balin wanted to interfere, but because it was about the happiness and peace of mind of two very dear friends. Well, the happiness of one dear friend and a soothed conscience for a rather foolish cousin and King, as Thorin’s guilt on the matter was starting to make a noticeable impact on him, more than Billa’s nervousness in face of the secretive attitude everyone was having.

When Thorin had first requested that nobody was allowed to speak to Billa about them being wedded it was understandable. He himself was on the verge of death, and Billa was injured, if only slightly. After all that had happened the information might be a bit much, and they had spoken of keeping it a secret and letting the Hobbit go back to her own home if she wished. None but the company would know of it, it might be as if nothing had ever happened in the first place, which might be especially good if Billa decided that she did not want to stay by Thorin’s side any longer.

Somehow word had gotten out anyway, Billa had been seen trying to reach the King, and rumours spread quick. People overheard things and soon everybody knew of their little melhekhinh, the King-Lady who many already were willing to consider their ruler, after all her deeds proving her more than worthy and capable, despite her not being a Dwarf. 

Once it was clear that Billa would not be able to just walk away as if nothing happened, the company started to worry about what to do. Thorin demanded to be the one to tell Billa, once he could handle that conversation. With the condition he had been in it was clear that this might take a while, but both Balin and Dáin were sure they could keep the Dwarves from telling her without them actually knowing why they weren’t allowed to speak to their Queen. 

The company was divided on that, saying that Billa had the right to know, that it was disrespectful, that she should be told and then apologized to and send to the Shire, that it was best to wait for the moment everybody had calmed down. Balin didn’t care much as long as they all did what he asked them to, and admittedly he was proud that Thorin kept insisting on it until all promised. He would take responsibility, and despite him being the King of Erebor and the marriage being public, this _was_ only between him and Billa.

At first Thorin barely could speak without pain, and Billa would be at his side, trying to help as much as she could, worrying over him and the princes. Balin hadn’t been sure if there was still any love left between them after all that had happened, but it seemed to be the case. Billa had not forgotten how she had been treated, but she hadn’t lost her feelings for Balin’s cousin, and she was willing to give him another chance.

But now weeks had passed, and not only had Thorin still not explained the situation to Billa, no, he actually was actively trying to keep it from her even though she must be suspecting something. 

Billa wasn’t stupid or naïve, she was sure to catch on that something wasn’t right, and it was only a matter of time until she figured everything out on her own, whether by deciding to investigate or by chance. 

Thorin knew it too, and he would try not to speak of it, but Balin simply had had enough of it. The good thing about Thorin being injured was that he could not just walk away and avoid his advisor, and he was in too much pain to evade questions otherwise, a fact that Balin wasn’t ashamed to use to his advantage.

“You cannot keep it forever, now she actually caught on that they are practically addressing her as Queen, it’s a tiny step to finding out what it means. Thorin, you have already waited for too long,” he would start, and they had had that conversation so many times, but sitting in the chair by the sickbed Balin was determined to stay until he was absolutely certain that Thorin would do what he had to.

“I know.”

Thorin knew all of Balin’s arguments by heart now, and all he could do was sigh and sink further into the pillows, too tired to even complain about being tied to the bed anymore. He had done it before, but now the ache of his wounds had dulled a little, but the constant pain and the worrying had left him leached, pale with dark circles under his eyes and looking sicker than he probably was. 

Balin was no healer, but he was certain that the guilt and the worrying about having to let Billa know of what she had accidentally done was anything but beneficial to Thorin’s healing process.

“Laddie…” he started again, pitying him but knowing that this was simply something that needed to be done. “You are not making this any better. No matter what, telling Billa personally is still the right thing to do. You owe her at least that much.”

Thorin threw a pained look his way.

“So you think I don’t know that? There is so much I owe her, so much more than I could ever give her.” 

He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths that must be hurting him, but Balin knew better than to try and remind him not to do that. 

“I can count myself lucky that she wants to forgive me at all. But to expect her to go along with this union… Even if she might still do it, she deserves more than just being wedded due to some old dusty tradition. She deserves a courting, she deserves an actual choice. Do you truly think she will _want_ to stay by my side? What does Erebor have to offer to her, if all she needs is her own lands, her home, not the throne of a place she can’t possibly want to live in? What do _I_ have to offer to her?”

Thorin’s fingers clenched into the blankets.

“We should have let her leave right after the Battle, or sooner, when we thought the Mountain ours for the first time.”

Balin shook his head in sympathy. 

“There is no use questioning what outcome different choices would have brought. All you can do is be honest now. You can’t make it worse, Thorin, stop delaying this.”

He said it as stern as he could, and Thorin winced away.

“I know, I will…” he paused for a while. “I know I will have to tell her, but as soon as she knows – she will not want to stay, she has no reason to want to be my wife anymore, nor would she care to be Queen. She’ll only want to leave sooner, to be in the Shire again. I know she has every right to go and I have no right to keep her from where she’d be happiest. Part of me still wants to postpone that moment and have her by my side for as long as I can.”

He looked so desolate as he said it that Balin stood up and walked over to Thorin’s bed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Now now, Thorin, not all is lost, it certainly isn’t sure that our Mistress Baggins would want to leave you.”

Thorin looked up at him, eyes devoid of any hope.

“It is certain. I would not want to stay if I were in her place.”

Balin sighed and squeezed his fingers before letting go of Thorin’s shoulder. He was sure that Billa still loved their King as much as she had before; enough to stay and forgive if Thorin just returned to being as he was before they found the treasure chambers. And Balin was certain that Thorin would not fall to the gold as he had in the beginning. He wasn’t sure if Billa’s homesickness wasn’t stronger though, strong enough to leave them. He wouldn’t hold it against her, especially as being Queen of something she never asked for in addition would be so much worse for her.

“It would be for the best to just- Before I find another excuse to keep the truth from her…”

Thorin looked up at his old advisor and Balin nodded.

“I will see that somebody fetches Billa right now.”

“Thank you. And Balin… please stay? I am afraid I would just not do it after all… You know better how to explain it all, and do add whatever I forget to mention.”

“I will.”

Fetching their Hobbit wasn’t hard, one of the healers that had watched over the sleeping brothers agreed to go look for her, and as everyone always knew where the only non-dwarven occupant of the Lonely Mountain was, it only took a few minutes for word to reach Billa, that her presence was requested by the King and his Right Hand.

When she arrived she was still wearing the too big fur coat Thorin had given her, snowflakes sticking to it and her curls, her face pale and tired but her cheeks rosy from the cold. Billa smiled as she entered the chamber, a brief look of relief she always got when seeing Thorin’s unchanged condition quickly hidden away.

Neither of the Dwarves said a word apart from Balin greeting her, as Billa carefully hung up the heavy coat and sat down next to the bed, and she still kept up her smile as she glanced from one to the other, though she did seem confused and a little worried as the silence stretching on.

“Is everything all right?” she asked then, glancing at Thorin who was pointedly looking at his knees. “There aren’t any new developments with the mountain or… otherwise? Nothing bad happened, right?”

Billa looked to Balin for answers, who looked at Thorin and then back to the Hobbit.

“No, everything is as it should be and as well as possible according to the circumstances. Near perfect actually. There is just a thing you should know about- Nothing _bad_ , just important,” he added at her terrified eyes.

He looked at Thorin again and waited for a bit, but the King sat unmoving.

“It is something Thorin wanted to tell you for a while now, but couldn’t as he was still too weak from his injuries. Now is the time.”

Thorin glanced up at Balin, his eyes pleading and resigned, as Billa turned in her seat, her whole body facing Thorin now, leaning a little closer and giving him a tiny encouraging smile. She had been so kind these past weeks, it hurt Balin to think about what they would have to reveal to her, yet at the same time he knew it had to be done.

Thorin took a deep shuddering breath, before turning to Billa.

“There is an old… custom, among my people, one that now affects you…” his unharmed hand moved over the covers towards where Billa was sitting, but then he pulled it back and clenched his fist.

“There is a tradition regarding one’s gold, possessions and home… One that affects the bond between two Dwarves.”

Billa didn’t interrupt Thorin even once as he slowly started to explain about how the willingness to do as she had was seen by Dwarves, not even with gasps or questions. Her expression didn’t really change, and she didn’t move, though Balin noticed how her smile seemed to freeze up and her eyes looked tight.

There still was a slight smile on her face after Thorin let Balin take over and explain to her how she was now officially regarded as Thorin’s wife and by default Erebor’s Queen, how all Dwarves would see her as such now and how even all others now at east considered her Thorin’s betrothed due to what they had noticed about her and the few stories everyone told about the brave little Hobbit.

“Forgive me,” Thorin rasped out when Balin was finished with his explanation. “I should have – I should have told you right away when I realized what you were doing, I should have prevented you from doing what you would later regret. I shouldn’t have let you become a Queen without even asking, without making you do what you didn’t...“

Billa didn’t move for a few moments, staring at him, unseeing, then she shook her head slightly, the melted bits of snow falling into her lap. She smiled and leaned forwards, her little hands wrapping around Thorin’s.

“It is fine,” she said, and if Balin hadn’t been so used to paying attention to subtleties he wouldn’t have noticed how her voice shook at the words. “I do not mind, really. You told me now, and I would have done it even if I had known that you Dwarves would see it as a proposal and wedding in one. I am just glad that you are healthy now, and I guess I have been doing a Queen’s duties already, nothing changes, right?”

She smiled, and it looked so very tired, but as Billa shifted to sit closer at Thorin’s side, tilting his head with her small hand so that he had to look at her, it didn’t look unhappy to Balin.

“I will stay, we will figure things out about what your Dwarves think of me. All will be good, I am not mad at you.”

Thorin looked as if somebody had lifted a giant rock of his shoulders, not quite relaxed, but not as tense as he had seemed before. He raised his hand to cover Billa’s on his cheek, and they sat quietly, as Balin watched them, thinking about what needed to be done about Billa being the Queen officially, and the only noise in the chamber was the sound of the flames in the lamps flickering slightly and the occasionally drop of melting ice from Billa’s hair hitting the floor. 

 

*-*-*-*

 

The water from the mountain’s springs was always hot, and flowing whatever direction the Dwarves needed it to, if they build the waterways right. Billa had been told this even before the battle, during those days the company was alone in Erebor. Repairing all of these that might have been damaged in over 60 years of neglect had never been a priority, and not much attention had been paid to more than to the river and some of the wells inside the city.

But apparently the main structures had endured, a sign of true craftsmanship as Glóin had claimed, and apart from some pipes that had been blocked by debris nearly every construction was still in working order, such as the bathhouses near the palace.

As soon as that was discovered and somebody had cleaned it all up a little it was suggested that Billa could take a bath some time, nobody else would use the ones in the palace anyway, so she would have some privacy during a nice bath.

It felt like years had passed since Billa’s last proper bath, but somehow she hadn’t gotten around to it until this day. There always had been something on her mind, things she had to do, Elves and Men she had to speak to, friends she had to worry over… Never had there been time for more than some buckets of lukewarm water, and none at all for just soaking.

Balin had insisted though, had made her promise that she would work for at least two days and get some rest, as she had been going through much more than any other member of the company and entire army and that she needed rest. That was ridiculous, she wasn’t made of glass after all, and just talking to some Kings and generals to help her Dwarves wasn’t _work_.

Either way, it was nice. The bath was a large room, a pretty mosaic gave the floor and walls a pretty look and some bits of gold and polished stone shone in the lights of the lamps, the bath itself was surrounded by a low boarder and otherwise a hole in the floor, the smooth stone a surprisingly comfortable place to sit and lean against. The hot water came streaming through a pretty fountain in the shape of two stylized ravens, and the excess water flowed away through narrow cracks on the edges. 

The soft gurgling of the fountain and the steam that obscured nearly everything in the room from view was soothing, and after a while of idly sitting in the hot water Billa started to feel herself calm down a little. Her toes hurt slightly, just like they always had when she had been out in the cold and then made herself a footbath, though she hadn’t even realized how frozen they were this time. Tension drained from her shoulders, and again she hadn’t even noticed how keyed up she had been these past days.

Now with the calm and no need to go anywhere, no need to be doing anything, or no possibility to use that as an excuse to just not have to be stuck doing _nothing_ Billa could also feel her thoughts catching up with her.

Thorin’s revelation had been… a surprise, certainly, shocking to a degree perhaps. What a peculiar way to go about having people married, even if it was rare and seldom used by what she understood from Balin’s explanation.

She hadn’t known what to say right after Thorin revealed all to her, wasn’t sure how _anyone_ was supposed to react to being told that they were suddenly the Queen of a strange Kingdom of all things.

She had said that she wasn’t mad at Thorin and that was true, he had told her after all, there was no actual malicious thought behind his actions. She had said that she didn’t mind as her duties would be the same she was fulfilling now freely, despite everyone insisting that her help had already been more than enough even if she didn’t do anything more.

And when she had said that she would stay… it… it hadn’t been a lie, Billa was so certain that she wanted to stay with Thorin, all would be good after all, she would have stayed unless she had gotten the feeling that she didn’t love him at all or that he didn’t want her around. And there really wasn’t anything indicating either of these things. 

She was so _sure_ … and yet, something about the thought of staying in the kingdom under the mountain was making her throat feel tight.

She didn’t want to go, she _really_ didn’t, hadn’t formed it as a conscious thought at any point before the moment Thorin and Balin told her that she was technically the Queen of Erebor. She had felt a vague dread about having to stay in the former Kingdom of Dwarves before, but never enough to consider how to leave.

Winter was truly here now, with the thick snowflakes falling and actually staying for more than a few hours and not melting away as it previously had, making the layer on the battlements enough to hide the stone from view. It had worried Billa, she did remember how cruel a winter could be, she did remember how bad it was with enough food supplies from the summer and families and warm hearths and properly locked doors and more than wounded and weary to see to the safety of everyone else. 

With Erebor there were three armies lying before the mountain, and one Kingdom not suited for living safely yet, and another burned to the ground twice over, leaving families out in the cold. Billa hadn’t been present when the solutions for that were discussed, it seemed to be a matter between the Elves and the Men, and them and the generals of the Iron Hills’ army, so she didn’t have to be present.

Not knowing though… that was worse. All she could do was worry and suspect what nobody was telling her. In no conversation had the shortage of food been brought up, Billa only sometimes heard her Dwarves talk about how glad they were that their diet wasn’t simply cram anymore.

But soon it would be a problem, it was always a problem in winter. Surely the Elves couldn’t maintain the population of Laketown, and then two armies, of which they might not even _want_ to support one? What would they do then? The desolation around the lonely mountain would not yield anything, neither fruit nor wild animals to hunt, especially not in the winter.

It would bring the wild animals though, if there were any left they’d come, as they had back when she was still a little lass. The memory of wolves howling came back to her, the sound as fresh in her mind as it had back then, but now it was mixed with the memory of wargs and the battle cries of Orcs. 

The mere thought made Billa curl up into herself, shivering and feeling tiny and vulnerable, freezing despite the steaming water that surrounded her. 

Surely, it wouldn’t be that bad? There were warriors here, but most were wounded one way or another, and there were so many they had to protect? 

No, Gandalf was here, and Beorn, they if nobody else could keep the winter’s dangers at bay. Though even they wouldn’t miraculously be able to bring everyone through the winter without food, and they had spoken of leaving as soon as they could be spared. Billa didn’t know what wild animals lived in this corner of the world, and she did not know how long and harsh the winters were compared to the Shire’s. Worse, and colder from the looks of it, but nobody was here who could help her compare it.

Billa could feel bile in her throat and she pushed that thought aside as well as she could, pressing her hands to her eyes until she stopped.

The winter was the least of her problems, winter came every year, winter was something everyone could count on and knew how to deal with. Winters hadn’t ever been as harsh as the Fell Winter.

And there were other things she had to worry about, apart from how Erebor, Dale and Laketown couldn’t really be restored during the next few months and how there would be no food and maybe not enough warmth and medicine to… no, it was no use, better not to think of it at all.

Despite how much Billa refused to permit her own thoughts to linger on such pessimistic things, there were troubles she was confronted with every day, and which she couldn’t just push out of her mind.

Of all the wounded there were three she saw every day, and they were harmed pretty badly, despite what they insisted.

Fíli was only barely conscious for a few hours at a time, and even then he was very quiet and didn’t react too much. There was something wrong with his head, but Billa didn’t quite understand what exactly from what little the healers told her.

Kíli might yet loose his leg, and him actually making jokes about it only served to have Billa’s stomach clench painfully each time she thought of it. She could not imagine how anyone could see something positive in it, and half of the time she was sure that Kíli simply thought it would soothe her.

And Thorin… it was a miracle that he hadn’t died right there on the battlefield, and he still looked like death itself. Each time Billa came to visit him, or entered the room after even the shortest absence, seeing him _alive_ brought a wave of relief and then one of worry.

His ribcage was nearly completely injured, there were shattered bones all over his left side and he was still not permitted to even sit up without help. 

The healers wouldn’t tell her much, and it reminded Billa so much of how the family members of those who had no hope left were treated. Nobody would actually tell her how good the chances for all three surviving their injuries were, they would not want to worry her if there was the possibility of them not making it.

And she _knew_ that there still was a chance of all turning out bad. There was yet the danger of Fíli’s head injury worsening and leaving him weak and unable to do anything but breathe and sleep. Kíli’s leg was still not safe, and there still might be complications or infections, no matter what the healers tried. 

And Thorin… 

Sometimes, when she was sitting by his side, when he was sleeping and she was counting his breaths, sometimes it felt as if she was sitting at his deathbed, as if all she was doing was just wait for him to die after all, and leave her behind, alone in this strange mountain.

It felt as if, even if she wanted, she couldn’t leave, as if she was bound to stay and watch him fade, as if the mountain’s secure and reassuring walls were actually made to keep her in, and keep her from leaving to spare herself the sight.

She hadn’t even realized it, but now that she was the Queen, she could not simply go, she could not leave them like this, she now had a duty, even if nobody expected her to actually take it up.

But being Queen robbed her of the possibility of just going and asking Gandalf if she could leave with him, to flee from the mountain. Even before, the mere thought would have made her guilt gnaw at her mind, for just leaving Thorin and the brothers behind, but now she _couldn’t_ …

Billa was trapped, she _wanted_ to stay, she would not have minded being the Queen, but what if that would leave her _alone_ , what use would it be to already be married to Thorin by some mistake that might have been a lucky one in any other situation, if it would just leave her a widow soon enough? 

She did not want to stay, she could not leave with that duty, with how she loved Thorin, she did not want to stay to see him die after all, she did not want to stay and look at the Dwarves who she could not possibly be a Queen to, she could not leave to not face the possibility of Thorin dying after all with the guilt that would suffocate her if she did that…

Curling up and trembling as she did had made Billa slide down against the bath’s edge unnoticed, so when her feet slipped on the wet stone at the bottom it took her by surprise, leaving her unable to prevent herself from falling into the water.

Her head was only submerged for a few seconds, and the water wasn’t deep enough there to be worrying her, but the brief moment was enough.

Billa was trashing around uselessly, even after she could breath again, and there was water everywhere, with the heat that somehow made no difference to how much she was fed up with choking on it, and nearly everything was obscured by the steam, leaving only walls and rock everywhere she was turning to, only rock like all of Erebor, like the walls that trapped her here, like the walls she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to-

It was enough to make her loose it, to make breathing seem impossible until the first broken sob escaped her throat. Billa tried to bite her lip, to calm herself as she had before, but still the sobbing and the choking noises came and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Don’t be so pathetic, she tried to tell herself, pressing her hands to her mouth, this is nothing, you are overreacting, don’t!

There was a noise from somewhere right outside the bathroom, quiet but there was unmistakably somebody there.

Billa bit into her lip and insides of her cheeks furiously, desperate not to have anybody worry about her and even less have a stranger hear and maybe even see her in such a state. 

She managed to keep silent for long enough to have anyone go away, but it wasn’t enough and there were steps close by and then a figure appeared in the steam.

Through her tears she saw Dori approaching, stopping right before the large tub, a neat pile of towels in his arms. He stared at her, eyes wandering over her puffy eyes and her hands covering most of her face but not enough to hide what state she was in, and seeing how she was curled up and trembling in the hot water.

He mercifully didn’t say a word, and he didn’t turn to leave Billa behind mortified but at least on her own again. Dori knelt down across from her, and then he reached out and pulled her to his chest, gentle but firm enough that Billa wouldn’t have managed to resist if she had tried to pull away.

He pulled her to his chest, holding her tight and it was enough for the Hobbit to loose what little control she had over her sobs and break out in tears. She clung to the Dwarf, her tiny fists clenching against his jacket, and surely it would be ruined by her snot and the water that was spilling over the edge of the tub with her rash movement.

Dori didn’t say a word, just rocked her in his arms as she cried, and once she had stopped trembling too much he lifted her out of the water. For a moment she wanted to protest or turn away, still not used to being naked in the presence of others even after all the time spent with Dwarves. But then he wrapped her into the cosy warm towels, which were big enough to make her disappear in them, before sitting down against the bath’s edge and holding her in his lap, and really, it wasn’t the first thing on her mind anyway.

Billa tried to stop, tried to get up and thank him, but she physically couldn’t bring herself to stand up on her own, which left her with sitting in Dori’s lap and weeping louder and harder than she had before. Dori petted her hair and hummed something close by her ear; quiet yet audible even over her loud sobs, a soothing sound like some lullaby and similar to what her own mother had sung when she was just a tiny lass. 

It was ridiculous, she shouldn’t be letting it all out and have poor Dori witness her outbreak, and yet there wasn’t anything Billa could think of to stop herself from doing anything but let Dori cradle her on his lap and listen to her sobs echo through the steam-filled room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dori's hugs are life changing and the nicest you can get when in distress, accept no substitutes 
> 
> *shuffles feet nervously* uh... it's been a year, and I'm so very slow with this, it nearly makes me feel ashamed... well... I never expected how hard Thorin and Bilbo are to write...  
> Thanks to everyone who is still hanging around!


	11. Chapter 11

It was cold on the battlements, much colder than before, with the wind bringing a new icy sharpness and snow lying everywhere apart from one narrow path that was occasionally cleared so that one might walk easier from one end to the other without slipping. Still, Billa stood at the balustrade and did not move back into the mountain’s shelter and relative warmth.

The cold air cleared her head and even the near painful bite of the wind helped to make her feel more awake. The scenery before her was oddly calming in a way, the snow giving the desolation around the mountain some sense of peace, hiding both the damage done by Smaug’s presence and all that might have suggested that a large battle had taken place just a while back.

There still were some tents very close to Erebor’s gates, clearly visible from where Billa was standing, most of them belonging to the Iron Hill army and consisting of things that were easier stored there than in the mountain, mostly for their draught animals and for those soldiers who preferred a familiar tent to a city that had not yet made comfortable for so many.

The Elves and Men had moved away, most of them to the ruins of Dale, and some farther back to the shores of their lake, where they worked to build a temporary shelter. It might not be enough for all of them, and once the winter grew harsher it would be difficult to live in crudely build huts, but the Dwarves had promised to restore the old guest quarters that once were used for tall folk, and that would be enough to give them a warm place to sleep at least.

First they would make the old districts of Erebor habitable though, so that all of the Iron Hills Dwarves who wished to stay could start deciding where they would want to live later on. As long as the snow and the blizzards were not blocking the ways there would also be caravans traveling towards the lonely mountain, bringing both food and craftsmen so that Erebor’s restoration could start early. Should that not be enough the Elves were ready to provide some help too, and the Men had always had most of their winter reserves hidden off shore, so that it had not been destroyed when Smaug attacked their town.

That was the last thing Billa had heard of the negotiations between the people, and she hadn’t even been there for it. Not that there was much she might have contributed, even as Erebor’s representative. Everyone wanted to have the mountain and the city of Men thriving again, it would be good for trade in the entire North and the Mirkwood, little sacrifices and gifts were nothing compared to that. 

Part of Billa wanted to be cross with them for not waiting for her and deciding all on their own, even though she had always insisted that she could and would help them with all. But mostly she was just glad that it was over, that she now was free to do as she pleased and not do any work, even if that went against her sense of duty and practicality. She had done her share and even if she tried, the trade of the area was not something she was that familiar with, it was best to leave it to the Dwarves.

She stood unmoving as the wind ruffled her hair and the fur of her coat, contemplating the events of the last few weeks.

Dori had not said a word after her breakdown in the bathhouses, had only held her until she was calm and so tired that she barely could sit upright. He had led her out of the bathroom and left her to get dressed, then he had half led, half carried her through unfamiliar streets and tunnels and into a house she had not seen before.

It had been clean and warm and she had seen Ori sitting at a plain table and looking at her in worry. Billa had nearly fallen asleep where she stood before Dori led her to a bed and the last she knew of that day was how there was a soft matrass and hands gently wrapping blankets around her before there was darkness and moments later sleep.

She had woken up a few times, feeling much better but Dori had always insisted she stay in bed and sleep some more, and she did. Sometimes she woke and Ori was there, dozing with some crochet and leaning against the end of her bed, sometimes Nori was there, watching her and giving her a small smile, and once it was Dori who gave her a large mug of some thin soup that warmed her from inside.

She had slept through the rest of that day and through the night, and by the time she had woken Billa had really felt calmer and much more rested than after any night of sleep she had managed to have the past few weeks.

“Stay here with us” Dori had said after taking one look at her during breakfast. “You will feel better if you get away from all that nonsense at their so called council meetings.”

He was right, of course, though there was no way to really get away from all that stressed Billa. She agreed after insisting that she didn’t want to occupy anyone’s bed, and Nori had promised that everyone had more than enough room to sleep even with a little Hobbit Lady taking up an entire bed.

Dori had given her a coat, too, one that looked so fine that Billa wondered where he had gotten such a thing. It had probably belonged to some general of the Iron Hills, judging by the patterns of the materials, but it looked like Dori had sewn away some patches that had displayed symbols and crests, and replaced them with ones Billa recognized from her own Dwarves’ clothing.

It was intended for someone much taller than her and reached nearly down her ankles, but the fur lining made it comfortable and warm and she didn’t look too ridiculous wearing it. It certainly kept her warm enough on the battlements that she didn’t even mind it being cold enough to have her feet freeze.

There was hardly anyone passing by her, so the scrunch of snow behind Billa was noticeable immediately. As she turned she saw Dáin approach. He wasn’t wearing the heavy armour she had seen him in all the previous times, but rather thinner chainmail and a big fur coat that still made him look broader and more imposing than he probably was.

“Do you mind me joining you?” he asked, gesturing towards the balustrade Billa was leaning against. She nodded and he stepped closer, both of them looking over the field below them. Billa hadn’t gotten the chance to really have many conversations with Dáin that went beyond polite chit-chat before the negation meetings but she was used to him by now and just standing in silence didn’t feel as awkward as it might have.

“I have heard that you are now aware of the situation you are in?” Dáin asked after a while, glancing down at her. “I must apologize for not letting you know myself, but your company insisted that Thorin be the one who tell you about how you managed to get married to him just like that.”

News travelled fast inside the mountain, it seemed. Billa managed a small smile in response.

“There is nothing to apologize for, you all did the right thing, even if it was a little unnerving to be treated like a leader and not knowing why.”

Dáin cocked his head a little as he watched her reaction, and for a moment Billa felt like he was trying to assess her.

“This makes us cousins by marriage then,” he finally said and Billa’s smile at that wasn’t forced. He might be still joking but from what she understood family was important to Dwarves. He certainly didn’t disapprove of her, not that he ever had shown signs of that before.

“It does. I never thought I’d ever be able to claim that I’m related to royalty. And the Dwarfish one at that”

She chuckled at the thought and turned to watch the land again, but Dáin was still looking at her. 

“You don’t have to,” he said and waited for her to turn her head towards him again. “You don’t have to stay and be the Queen of Erebor, you are married to the King in the eyes of the people and our law, but you don’t need to accept this.”

“What do you mean by this?” Billa stared at him, unsure what to say or feel and suddenly feeling the bit of the wind much more than before.

Dáin’s face was serious.

“You haven’t been given a choice in the matter, and I suspect that none will actually suggest that you might leave as you wish. Be it because you hold no love for the mountain and my kin, or because you miss your homeland, or even if you just do not wish to be in such a ruling position. By the Maker, I know how unpleasant it is to emerge from a battle victorious but then have a realm of Dwarves placed in your hands to rule and protect. I would not wish for you to be forced to endure that.”

He sighed and looked down at his army.

“We can even come up with a tale for the people, for why you can’t stay. You still will be the hero of Erebor, and the Halfling who might have been Queen, stuff for ballads, and admired by all. Nobody has to know for the reasons of your departure, unless you want them to. I can arrange it so that you can leave unseen by the troops if you don’t want the attention, and be halfway to the Misty Mountains while I make sure the Dwarves know that you couldn’t stay.”

“Your friends will understand,” Dáin added when Billa still hadn’t said a word. “They would help you go if you asked them to, and do all they can to come up with explanations for everyone else.”

Billa wasn’t sure what to say to that. She hadn’t thought about leaving Erebor and fleeing the title of being Queen, not really. But she really could, she could just go and explain that all was fair enough but she did not care for having such duties pushed on her, she could leave with Gandalf and be in her warm and comfortable hobbit hole without anyone thinking less of her.

She fumbled at the fur on her sleeves and closed her eyes. It would be easy to leave it behind, hadn’t she worried about food shortage and the winter coming, and hadn’t the mere thought of all of it and the idea of Thorin, Fíli and Kíli dying caused her throat to tighten? Now she felt nothing. Nothing but a deep sorrow to leave Thorin behind, and to perhaps never see her friends again after spending nearly and entire year together with them.

“I don’t think I will need that help,” she finally replied and opened her eyes to look directly at Dáin. “I will stay here and do my best to learn to be what is expected of me.”

“Truly? You don’t want to return to the Shire?”

“I will miss it,” Billa admitted, “But by now I would miss my Dwarves more. And even if I hadn’t gotten myself married to Thorin by accident, I would have wanted this and sooner or later one of us would have to leave their home if we wished to be together. And besides, I can’t leave Balin to keep an eye on Thorin all by himself.”

Dáin laughed at that and his heavy hand landed on Billa’s shoulder, nearly strong enough to have her stumble against the balustrade.

“Thorin really couldn’t have done better than you it seems. I am not sure he deserves such a Queen but there is no doubt that you will be good for him.”

He sobered and his fingers pressed firmer against her shoulder.

“But if you change your mind, or if anything happens that will make you want to leave after all, send a raven and I will do my best to get you out of this. Thorin is my kin by blood, but you are part of the family now and I am fond of you either way. If _anything_ is wrong, I will help you.”

Dáin didn’t let go of her until Billa had nodded in understanding.

“I doubt it will come to that,” she muttered, but he smiled and she was glad to have him worry and offer her a way out should everything return to how it was in the previous weeks and get worse.

They both turned to watch the movement of the soldiers below, standing in comfortable silence. Little time passed before there was another Dwarf approaching, and when Billa and Dáin turned to acknowledge him he bowed deeply.

“My Lady, my lord,” he said, bowing first to Billa and then to Dáin before turning back to her. “My Queen, your presence is requested by the healers of your lord husband. If you would follow me?”

He seemed a little nervous and Billa threw a look at Dáin, who only shrugged in response. She sighed and stepped towards the soldier.

“There is no need for ceremony, I am merely a little Hobbitlady who happens to be bound to a foolish Dwarf King,” she said. “I will find my way back, thank you.”

The Dwarf soldier bowed again before walking back inside the mountain.

“Will they always be like that?” Billa asked. “With the bowing and the politeness, or is that only reserved for non-Dwarves?”

“They will get used to you and soon you’d even stop noticing.” Dáin laughed at her expression. “Of course, if the bowing and being treated as a Queen is too much for you, we can have you way out of reach of that by nightfall.”

Billa gave a sniff at that and turned to leave him standing in the snow. The way back to the house they used instead of a hospital was reached quickly, and Billa soon felt warmer and unlaced her coat while walking. Inside the house she was greeted by one of the healers she vaguely recognized from before.

“My Queen,” he said with a short nod before leading her towards where the princes’ room was. Billa took a moment to hang up her coat and follow the healer, glad that at least some Dwarves didn’t treat her too differently.

The first thing she noticed was that Fíli was not only awake, but sitting upright, with lots of pillows and blankets nearly obscuring him from view. The second was that the food on both little tables was nearly untouched and that Kíli was entertaining himself by throwing various tiny objects at his brother and laughing when he wasn’t able to catch them or when they flew in an entirely wrong direction.

“Fíli, Kíli!”

Both flinched a little at the sight of Billa standing before them, her hands on her hips and glaring at them.

“What is going on here?”

“Nothing, Billa, we were just having a little bit of fun.”

“To celebrate that I’m not dozing off every couple of minutes anymore”

“They are bored,” the healer provided behind Billa.

“That’s no reason to make a mess here! You shouldn’t be throwing around things, you are still injured and might make it worse if you move when the healers say it’s too early. And why haven’t you eaten?”

Kíli made a face. 

“I am sick of the medicine and all the herbs… I would give anything for some roasted mutton now…”

Fíli sniggered before Billa could say another thing about it.

“And it is not like uncle is behaving any better.”

Billa turned to look at him, and then back at the healer.

“Why, what is Thorin doing?”

The healer gestured towards the door leading to his room and Billa followed him, but not before turning back to the princes once more and demanding they eat what they were given and stopped with the games.

“Yes auntie Billa,” she heard them mutter in an exaggerated tone, but then she entered Thorin’s room and was confronted with another Dwarf to handle.

Thorin had edged away from the middle of his cot, where he normally lay, working to get free of the blankets and stand up on his own.

“Thorin!”

He nearly flinched when he heard Billa’s outcry, and then she was at his side, grasping his undamaged wrist and keeping him from moving any further.

“Billa, I had not thought you would return here anytime soon.”

“Of course I would, now, what do you think you’re doing here?”

Thorin threw one angry look at the healer who watched them unimpressed, before weakly attempting to get past Billa and stand up, ignoring the pain each movement still caused him.

“You can’t just stand up!” Billa insisted, wincing with each twitch of pain Thorin made.

“I can, there are matters I must settle,” he said stubbornly.

“There is nothing you have to do that can’t be brought to your bedside! I forbid you to stand up now, you insufferable Dwarf! Not before the healers permit it.”

His face darkened, in what Billa recognized as a pout.

“I am the King and can do as I please in my own mountain, and they will do as I say.”

Billa let go of his hand, raising her eyebrows.

“I am Queen, yes? And seeing as the King is injured and clearly unable to rule, I shall be the one to give orders as long as the healers say you are too ill. Well, my order is that you are to be kept from leaving this bed as long as it causes further damage.

Thorin opened his mouth and closed it again, before groaning and letting himself sink against the pillows again.

“I see I am betrayed,” he muttered but let Billa and the healer arrange the blankets and his position so that he would not accidentally hurt himself more.

The healer bowed to Billa, and she waved him off with a smile. Once they were left alone she sat down at the edge of the bed, sighing and letting herself enjoy the warmth of the room.

Thorin’s hand came up to brush against her cheek and to tangle his fingers in her curls.

“You said you are the Queen,” he said, wonder in his eyes. “You do want to stay.”

Billa smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Of course.”

“Why? I have nothing to offer you, I do not deserve your patience and you don’t deserve to be Queen of a destroyed and ruined kingdom.”

Billa rolled her eyes at and leaned down to him.

“Stubborn Dwarf. I love you and you won’t get rid of me by pointing at some rubble. I have had worse on that journey you dragged me on.”

She kissed him softly on the lips and when she sat back he was smiling.

“Stubborn Hobbit,” he replied and pulled her closer, so that Billa could curl up by his side. 

“No more than you are. And promise to behave.”

She could feel him chuckling as he agreed and when Billa looked up, Thorin nearly looked as he had before the injuries and the stress had gotten to him. He still was pale with his cheeks too thin but he looked more alive than before. Or maybe she had just been too worried to see it like that.

Billa wrapped her arms around Thorin’s chest and leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling and feeling truly calm and content by his side for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is getting better and if it's not, it doesn't seem too hopeless anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

The healers soon enough realized that Billa was the only one who could keep Thorin from complaining and trying to get out of bed on his own, without being given permission by the healers before, and she was asked to come and glare at him nearly every time she wandered through Erebor to take a look on everything.

‘The healers’ own Queen’ she was jokingly called occasionally, and the title amused her.

“You are very good at this,” Jasha, the healer who had first send for her when Thorin started getting defiant, observed. “You are very good at keeping everyone doing what you asked them to. Perhaps you should think of becoming a healer yourself? ”

He had seen how she had managed to get Kíli and Fíli from making a mess without even leaving their cots, and have them take their medicine and eat what the healers told them to, without even giving direct orders.

“I’m used to this,” Billa told him, smiling. “In the Shire even those without children of their own always had those of family members around, so perhaps it’s natural to have this authority?”

“These are good qualities for a Queen.”

That was the only thing he said about the matter, and it both flustered Billa and made her glad for many reasons. She wasn’t sure how to deal with all the praise and the respect she was suddenly getting, more than she had deserved at least. Just being seen as a clever and capable fighter by the Dwarves was good, she had faced down Orcs and giant spiders and an entire Dragon, so this was well deserved. Being treated as royalty however…

She wasn’t sure how different it would be to just being a very valued member of the Shire community, she wasn’t entirely sure how a Dwarf Queen was supposed to behave, only few texts about their royalty had ever made their way to Billa’s library, and none had really spoken of their women at all.

At least the healers treated her normally, all too practical to bow and shuffle before her. Some of the soldiers still behaved in a way that was nearly unsettling, though by now Billa was sure that is was fear and them not knowing how to treat a Hobbit lady, who was now the hero of Erebor and Queen of one of the greatest clans of Dwarves no less.

“His majesty tried to leave the house again, this morning,” Jasha told her as she helped him grind some herbs into paste. “He can stand and walk, if slowly, but none of us think it’s wise to have him move so much and put a strain on his ribs. The exertion alone is bad enough, he shouldn’t take too deep breaths at all.”

Billa narrowed her eyes as she put down the herbs she had been holding. She wasn’t sure whether to fear for Thorin’s health or hate him for his stubbornness. She had asked him to stay and he had said he would, as long as he couldn’t walk. 

“From what little I understand he was also planning to visit the old forges and the gem cutter quarters soon,” Jasha went on, not looking the least bit ashamed about eavesdropping on the King.

“I will have a word with him,” Billa promised and Jasha bowed his head gratefully. 

She finished helping him to pluck the plants into bits that were easier to grind, wiped her hands and then stood up to go and talk to Thorin.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked as soon as she had entered the room, before Thorin could sit up and greet her sweetly as he did when he knew she’d be cross with him and hoped to pacify her.

“Billa,” He started, already sounding pained.

“You promised not to do anything stupid or to get up, and here I am told that you want to actually go and explore the city? Thorin?!”

He had the decency to look deeply ashamed at that. 

“What is there that is so important that you want to jeopardize your health for it?” Billa asked, and sat down at his side. She was glad that he was recovering, but she still feared to the lasting damage he might cause to himself. 

“Important things,” he muttered, but didn’t clarify.

“I told you that you cannot go as long as the healers won’t let you, you can barely stand! Please wait for the moment they allow this, and don’t go wandering alone!”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” he protested. “Dwalin will accompany me to examine what I need to, and he would not let me do anything he thought was too dangerous for me.

That much was true. Even after all this time, Billa was still a little nervous in the presence of the warrior, and sometimes it gave her an uneasy feeling to have him loom above her, pose always vaguely threatening and scars all over his arms. He was loyal though, and cared for Thorin and he wasn’t afraid to protest when Thorin or the princes did something that put them at risk.

But he was also a warrior and a Dwarf, stubborn and likely to ignore an injury if he thought it wasn’t _too_ bad. Hopefully he wouldn’t do that with Thorin though.

“Fine…” Billa allowed. “But if I hear that you go any further than the healers have allowed, or push yourself too far, you won’t leave this place until the next harvest!”

Thorin nodded, as if he took her threat seriously, and gently pulled her down so that she could sit against his side.

Billa huffed but leaned against him, mindful of his injuries. It was nice to be like that again, even if Thorin couldn’t move much or hold her in any other way apart from having her at his right side. It was comfortable anyway, with the furs and a fire keeping the room warm, and clothes that actually fit them and no uncomfortable armour in the way. She could get used to this.

“Have you ever even _wanted_ to be married?” Thorin asked after a while.

Billa considered it, briefly, knowing that he would see if she just answered for the sake of keeping him from getting more doubts about everything.

“Not for the sake of it,” she replied. “I never was one of these who said ‘I shall never marry’, but I never knew anybody I wanted to have anything serious with, before a certain King came along.”

She looked away, remembering days of childhood and the first weeks of spring, when everything was blooming and traditionally the most weddings happened, simply to get the prettiest time of the year.

“I used to love wedding parties as a wee lass,” Billa admitted. “All the hills were full of colours and the spring flowers were in full bloom, the trees rained petals on everyone and we decorated them with ribbons. People used to get married underneath the trees, with flowers in their clothes and their hair, and we partied and danced in their honour. It was all so beautiful, the entire world seemed like one big celebration! All was decorated. When I was a child I used to want to marry, _just_ to be in the centre of all of this.”

She glanced back at Thorin, only to find him look up at her with adoration and a sad smile.

“I wish I could have given that to you. You shouldn’t have to give up on that dream.”

“Nonsense, I didn’t give up on anything. It was about how magical it all looked as a child, later on it was still pretty but not as interesting to me.” She laughed at Thorin’s expression and then jokingly said “Erebor looks like it can be so much more beautiful, in its own way. And we still can have a second wedding one day, and travel to the Shire for that.”

Thorin shook his head.

“You never got to have any wedding in the first place.”

Billa shook her head.

“I don’t _need_ it.”

He sighed and pulled her closer, wrapping his arm tighter around her. Thorin seemed to believe that all of this was against Billa’s wishes, that she deserved more. More than a Kingdom, a title she had never even dreamed of. More than having all of her friends safe, having so many she cherished avoid death, and having her love, her _husband_ here where he could have died… It was more than Billa could ask for, but Thorin would still doubt it if she insisted more.

Jasha came in, then, with a tray of broth and dried meat, along a mug full of hot tea with herbs that was for strength and keeping infections at bay. Billa slid down from the cot, remembering that she was supposed to go anyway.

“Will you not stay for dinner?” Jasha asked.

“No, I must go, I’m sorry.”

Thorin gave her another sad look. He knew that she decided to take up Dori’s offer to spend the nights at their house, to get some rest in case everything grew too much again, even if she doubted that.

“I will be back tomorrow morning,” Billa promised and leaned in for a quick kiss, which Jasha thankfully didn’t watch.

Thorin nodded at her, watching her go, and then she was past the boys and outside of the healing house, making her way down the now familiar streets of Erebor. She had walked quite a bit through the abandoned quarters, before she came across Nori.

“Welcome m’lady,” he said with a smile at her. She knew her way, but Dori insisted that somebody should meet her anyway.

Billa raised her eyebrows at him, but followed his pace without a comment. He liked to tease her about things when he thought she could handle it. 

“Is that a loaf of bread I smell?” she asked and pointed at the bundle Nori had tucked under his arm.

“Fresh, Bombur’s just made them.”

They reached the house and Nori let them in, leading her towards the kitchen immediately to prepare a dinner. Everyone was starting to try and feed Billa at any occasion, her pockets were always filled with dried fruit and Dori tried to cook her more than he’d usually have done, even if she insisted that she wasn’t going hungry with only three or four meals a day.

They were alone for the evening though, and Nori didn’t go to cook anything, but set up a cold meal of bread, some butter, a block of cheese, onions and dried fish from the slow trade with the Men of Laketown.

They sat down, and Nori gave Billa a plate, a knife and some goat milk to drink, and they set to eat. She took it gratefully, tearing into the food. It was good, and most of it had an unfamiliar taste to it, things that had been brought by the soldiers of the Iron Hills and had been cooked with their recipes. 

As she ate, Billa realized that Nori had barely taken a bite himself, but was staring her with an expression that made her curl her arms around her plate on instinct. She had seen a similar look on too many of her cousins’ faces.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I would like to talk about some business matters with you,” Nori replied cheerfully, and not at all what Billa had expected.

“Have you heard about how they are looking for what we will do, once Erebor is a proper Kingdom again? They’ll not leave it at the gold, we’re all heroes now, rich, with work to do and fine lords, the lot of us, and a Queen as it seems.”

He flashed her a quick smile before getting a little more serious.

“And I shall be the Spymaster.”

Billa chewed on her fish, watching him.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“The Spymaster reports to the ruler, or those very high up. And I would very much like _you_ to be the one I work with.”

“Me? Why?”

Nori shrugged.

“There’s two main shields of the royal family and the Kingdom. The first is the army and the guard, everyone knows of them. Then there’s those behind the scenes, doing things the good soldiers never would dare or consider. Traditionally they are answerable to the King. Though, that might be because the King had trained with the generals when they were children.”

“The Queen or the Consort are more likely to take responsibility for the other part. That’s for the best, I think, something about the Consort’s crown seems to let the brain work like it should, and a Dam who sits on the throne is more likely to be reasonable.”

“Besides, yer clever, and I like you. I know that you can think of a way out of anything, and I can trust you.”

Billa tore her bread to pieces, thinking about that.

“What would I have to do?”

“Listen to what I say. Take it serious. Not jump to the most straightforward and most obvious solution when we have a problem.”

“I can do that, I think,” she admitted. “Just be reasonable yourself.”

Billa wasn’t entirely sure what Nori would be doing in that position, wasn’t entirely sure whether the Dwarven life inside the mountain would be as she expected. But she trusted Nori to not ask too much of her; he knew what she could and couldn’t do after all, and they were friends.

After that Nori leaned back in his chair, and Billa returned to finishing her meal.

When Billa reached out to tear another piece of bread off the loaf, she noticed how Nori now seemed to look impatient, slightly shifting on his seat and looking towards the door and the window. She spread butter over her bread and watched him, noticing how his expression was near pained now, and how he wasn’t looking at Billa at all.

“Do you need to go anywhere?” she asked in between bites.

“No,” Nori looked a little guilty as he said that. “I will stay right here and keep you company.”

The brothers hadn’t left her on her own during the time she spent at their house yet, making sure that she didn’t feel lonely or that somebody was there if she needed to talk. Nori might avoid many things, but he wouldn’t abandon a friend at least.

“Just go,” she said with a smile. “I promise I’ll be fine on my own, and Dori and Ori will come back soon enough.”

For a few seconds Nori’s shoulders were tense, then he relaxed and gave her a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” he said, and nearly jumped out of his seat. He grabbed some of the cheese and a corked flagon of wine that Dori had been keeping on the kitchen counter, then he was out of the room and out of the house in mere seconds.

Bill shook her head with an amused look after him, then turned back to her food, looking forward to a nice evening just to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's all moving slower now, sorry... I'm also having trouble because literally all my muse is good for right now, is imagining the last scene, and it refuses to have good ideas for the last few chapters. ^^' eh...


	13. Chapter 13

They were all sitting in the living room of the big house, a large fire and some of the pretty decorative lamps they had found lighting up their work. Dori sat on a stool next to a little working bench, cloth neatly piled up all around him as he worked on sewing together two bits of dark blue velvet. It was a beautiful material, fit for royalty and part of those that had survived the decades of neglect in a storage room.

There was fur, too, and materials that hadn’t been needed by Elves, Men or the army of the Iron Hills. How Dori kept finding the best picks of any of it was a mystery to Billa. Sometimes she would even think that Dori’s spoils would have been hard to acquire on a market, much less so in a once fallen Kingdom and a battlefield.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Billa said for the umpteenth time, and as always Dori replied with “Nonsense, this is important.”

He had insisted that Billa would need more and better clothes and so far there was nothing Billa managed to do to convince him of how she didn’t. She would have refused to take part in this, but Dori would have made the dresses anyway, so it was better to be there and provide measurements, lest the material would be wasted on an ill-fitting dress.

She didn’t have to be there still, but there wasn’t a good place to be instead. Dori had been quick about taking all of her measurements, holding a cord from her wrist to her shoulder, wrapping it around her hips and waist, all while Ori wrote everything down, and Nori provided estimations (which were spot on most of the time and made Billa question how and when Nori had managed to memorize her bust to waist ratio, and whether she should be offended that he had).

“You can’t be walking around in torn and oversized clothes all the time,” Dori said, his needle diving in and out of the velvet at a quick and steady pace, pulling the two cut out bits together. “It can’t be comfortable and we can’t have our Queen dress in rags where everyone else has clothes of solid Dwarvish make.”

Nori hummed in agreement from where he was sitting on the floor, something that would soon be a new tunic for Billa in his lap.

“You do need at least two changes of clothes. And something warm for when you can’t wear your coat,” Ori added, looking up from his parchments. Unlike his brothers, Ori didn’t seem to know how to sew or at least not for Hobbit ladies. Instead he had brought his writing and his journal to the table and stayed in their company.

The picture the three made was one of familiarity and comfort, and Billa wondered how often they had spent their evenings like this, back before they decided to go on the quest. She nearly felt out of place, sitting in the same room and half-heartedly crocheting to keep her hands busy. 

Somehow they were right, too. Billa did need clothes and she was the only one who couldn’t just borrow or look for something in Erebor. There were enough old clothes that were still perfectly fine, but the dresses of Dwarrowdams and little children were all either too large or too small in all the wrong places to truly suit Billa.

Which only meant that Dori was even more adamant about her needing to get something new made. Even if the things he did were way too pretty and regal compared to what most others found and repaired for themselves. 

“I do not need something like this,” Billa muttered and gestured at the pile of fur and golden threads that Dori had prepared to decorate the dress he was working on. “It is all too fine for now. We should do something actually useful? Helping with the work in the city, or with the healers or…”

“They do not need our help,” Dori pointed out. “Everything urgent that had to be done, is already completed and we won’t be able to do much more until the craftsmen from the Iron Hills arrive, and then they will do the work, and we would just be in the way. There is nothing we could be spending our time with right now, that isn’t more urgent than providing new clothes.”

Nori muttered something under his breath but shut up as Dori glared in his direction. While he hadn’t actually objected to helping, Nori also kept muttering that he had things he’d rather do each time Dori asked him for _anything_. Most of the time these things seemed to include drinking with the soldiers of the Iron Hills or stealing the better wines Dori managed to get for them, for which the older wouldn’t forgive him any time soon.

“You do need at least one dress for the coronation. Let the world see that we do have our mountain, and that our new Queen is as regal and magnificent as one would expect of a Dwarvish Kingdom.”

Billa sincerely doubted that she would ever be mistaken for Dwarvish, no matter how well Dori made the dress. She was too short and not stocky enough and she did look distinctively Hobbitsh. Wearing jewels and a dress like that might help to not have her look out of place, but it still wasn’t something Billa wanted to think of. She’d have to get used to the riches and the attention, but not right now.

Even with a coronation, Billa doubted that she would have to actually _be_ a Queen for quite a while.

And the coronation itself wouldn’t be that special, surely? 

Balin and Thorin had spoken to her about it, how it was a formality but that it might be better if she took part in it as well.

“This is mostly about Thorin, and about an official symbol of us having back Erebor,” Balin had said. “Of officially making him the King of the Lonely Mountain, and showing that the line of Durin has returned to its halls.”

“What do I have to do?” Billa had asked and Thorin had looked vaguely uncomfortable at that.

“Nothing, unless you want to.”

“You will just be there, and accept the crown and be proclaimed the Queen officially. Neither of you will do much, it will mostly be me speaking.” Balin had sounded a little resigned at it, but something about his eyes made him seem as if he was enjoying himself anyway. 

“Am I not the Queen already? The way everyone is speaking…”

“Yes, you are the Queen, married to Thorin already, and you can legally make use of either of these facts. It truly is more a matter of having a ceremony, to make sure that everyone else knows this, too.”

Billa had pondered this, not seeing how she should object to it. Sure, standing in front of all the soldiers of Dwarves, Men and Elves and be called the Queen seemed ridiculous, but not something she couldn’t handle.

She had held Thorin’s hand, but he had pulled away and placed it on hers instead.

“There is also the question of…. This could be a wedding of sorts. We _are_ legally married so far, but an official proclamation wouldn’t be much more than the coronation.”

He had looked so nervous at that, and Balin had said something about this being just a few more added lines, about how Billa wasn’t _just_ proclaimed Queen, but how they’d briefly talk of what she’d done and that she was the hero and the wife of the King as well. Nothing much, her being ready to give up her treasure had made long and traditional ceremonies optional and a proper feast shouldn’t be held with only an army there to see.

“You do not need to.” 

“This won’t be any more binding than before.”

“You don’t have to make up your mind about this.”

“You will still be able to change your mind after the ceremony.”

Thorin wasn’t pleased about any of what Balin was saying, always adding that she wasn’t obliged to do anything, and eventually Billa had leaned down to kiss him.

“I do not mind, I will go through with the ceremony. It’s nothing, I do know what I’m getting into. And even if I don’t, I’ll have time to adjust.”

Thorin had smiled a little.

“A wedding amongst ruins isn’t what I’d have offered you. But Balin will let you know when everything is ready and we shall make the best of what we’ve got.”

That had been only a few days ago, and now the entire company was doing their best to help Billa with it. 

“Do you really think that I will look like I belong with you properly?” she asked, and stared at Dori’s hands fumbling with the velvet.

“You _are_ one of us,” Dori said without even looking up from where the dress was taking shape under his skilled fingers.

Nori glanced up at Billa though, watching her with a strange look.

“Do you want to be a Dam?” he asked, and Billa shook her head.

“Of course not! I am happy without growing a beard or wearing boots. I am and always will be a Hobbit. Even being Queen won’t change that.”

She sighed and put down her yarn.

“A Hobbit being the Queen under the Mountain. What a thought.”

Nori shrugged at it, and Dori merely scoffed.

“A Hobbit being Burglar and helping a bunch of Dwarves reclaim their mountain doesn’t sound much better,” Nori offered. “Don’t worry, you will do fine in this as well.”

Billa watched the brothers work for a while, not saying anything more. Ori seemed completely lost in thought, an ink smudge on the tip of his nose, Dori tugged at his work and was making sure that he was doing everything as he planed it to, and Nori was nearly finished with his embroidery. 

The pattern he was making on the tunic’s sleeves was beautiful. Billa didn’t recognize the exact structure, but it reminded her of the geometrical pattern on Thorin’s own robes, though it looked a little different. Apart from that, Nori had made some more alterations to the design, with delicate blues flowers worked into the lines. Billa recognized the way they looked from some of her prettiest handkerchiefs back in Bag End, even if she wasn’t sure how or when Nori had gotten a look at them. She decided that she didn’t want to know specifics, lest she’d have to get mad at the thief after all.

Despite the matter of Nori learning such a Hobbitish pattern, the thing he created was beautiful. It _was_ Dwarvish, but not completely. It looked traditional but it still looked like something Billa might want to wear, like something that wouldn’t even look too off on the market in Hobbiton. It was delicate, with the lines thinner than most she’d seen, and the thread Nori had chosen not being that much darker than the material, though it did glitter when the lamp light hit it.

The dress Dori was sewing had an unfamiliar style as well, but despite all, Billa was still reminded of the sort of cut Hobbit women were wearing all the time. Dori must have seen them, as well as the ones Billa had used on their journey. 

She wouldn’t be a Dwarf, she wouldn’t even have to act like one. But she would still be part of Erebor, and somehow Billa thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be _too_ hard to find some way to truly belong. She felt it with her friends of the company, it might be that being Queen to hundreds more wouldn’t be that much more difficult. 

“You are right…” she muttered and got an “Of course, all will be fine” and a “Well of course I am” in reply.

They sat in silence and Billa focused on her crochet again, as the Dwarves did the same with their things.

After a while Nori held up the tunic to inspect it, smiling about the result.

“Well,” he said and got up. “My work here is done. Billa, I think Thorin should be back from his daily little Erebor expedition by now. Shall I accompany you there?”

Billa looked up, surprised. 

“Already?”

She wasn’t entirely sure at what time Thorin would be in his room every day, and she still had trouble telling time inside the mountain. Another thing she’d have to get used to.

Nori nodded and put away the tunic to help her up, but Dori glared at him.

“You are supposed to stay here and help me work! You barely ever are at home and this _needs_ to get done!”

“Ah, come on, you’ll have five of these dresses done on time. Let Ori help you!”

Behind Dori’s back Ori’s head snapped up and he shook it viciously, mouthing the word ‘no’ as he did so. Dori didn’t notice but still glared at his brother.

 

“Billa, you do want me to accompany you, right? Someone should after all,” Nori asked, but before Billa could decide whether to go along with that or tell the truth and say that she was fine on her own, but Nori was already pulling her along to the door.

“Nori! Return home immediately afterwards! You can’t ‘gather information’ about the sorts of people Lord Dáin brought along all day! There are things to do _besides_ getting drunk with them all the time! Do you hear me, Nori?!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Nori rolled his eyes and they were already out and out of earshot.

Billa bit back a smile as they walked. She knew that Nori wasn’t just getting drunk, but he did use any opportunity to get out and be on his own, or whatever it was he did, Billa wasn’t entirely sure herself. 

When they reached the house, Nori leaned against the wall and gestured for her to enter without him.

“I’ll wait here, if there’s something coming up.”

Billa nodded and went in. This time there wasn’t a healer around, but judging by the smell of herbs and Fíli’s unhappy look at the cup in his hands it was clear that the King and Princes had been taken care of. The brothers muttered a greeting, and Kíli fondled the cane he had lying across his lap. It wasn’t completed, but Bofur was occasionally visiting to help Kíli deicide what would work best for him.

“What have you been up to?” Kíli asked her, as he had started a while ago. Both he and Fíli were starting to get bored in their beds, which probably also meant that they were feeling better but still had them asking anyone about anything they did all day.

“Have you been outside? Have you spoken to some Elves?” 

Kíli sounded a little hopeful at that, but Billa had to shake her head.

“I am sorry, Kíli, I haven’t left the mountain all day. I promise, I’ll do it tomorrow and tell you all about it.”

She glanced at the door to Thorin’s chamber.

“Is he here already?”

Kíli shrugged.

“Yes, but they’re both really pissed off at one another.”

Billa gave him a questioning look, but Kíli just waved at her vaguely and she decided to see for herself.

Thorin was sitting in his bed, as always, glaring, and Dwalin was there, too, though Billa hadn’t expected to see him. He was standing by the bed, arms crossed and glared down at Thorin, unflinching, and while they weren’t talking, Billa felt that they had been snapping at each other for quite a while.

“Billa!” Thorin’s face softened when he spotted her. “I didn’t expect you here so soon.”

“Nori said you’d be back already,” she said, glancing from him to Dwalin uncertainly. “He’s waiting outside, so I can leave again if now isn’t the best time…”

Thorin shook his head. 

“No, not at all. Dwalin, you can leave now.”

Dwalin grumbled something under his breath and stalked out of the room, making Billa step back and out of his way involuntary. 

“What’s up with him?” she asked and sat down at Thorin’s side.

“Nothing, he just doesn’t feel like always staying by my side to watch over me while I do what I need to, but he also won’t leave me unsupervised.”

“Will you ever tell me about what’s so important in the city of Erebor?” 

Thorin shook his head and smiled.

“In time. But let us not speak of this now. Tell me about your day instead?”

Billa scoffed.

“There was nothing interesting happening, you’d grow bored.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.”

He shifted in his bed so that Billa could lean against him with both of them being comfortable. She sighed, but his fingers curled around the ends of her hair, and it was nice, just sitting like this as if there was nothing special about the situation they were in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there you go ^^'
> 
> there is now a short drabble about what Nori and Dwalin are up to between this chapter and the next: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1002821/chapters/3268655


	14. Chapter 14

The day before the coronation Bombur had cooked a big meal for most of the company. It was the first big meal they had assembled for since after the battle, together and not just in groups for a quick meal or in their new homes.

Apart from Thorin, everyone was expected at the little event, and even the princes managed to talk Óin into letting them join. Kíli slowly hobbled around with the help of the new crutches Bofur had made him. He was getting better with them, and he would be able to get around just fine for the time he needed to heal. Fíli did not like moving much, still dizzy and easily loosing his balance, but he said he’d do anything to get away from the herbal teas he was made to drink for a night.

It was nice, sitting at a massive stone table filled with all sorts of dishes. Bombur had gotten his hands on fresh venison, and a few barrels of vegetables and fruit, as well as dried fish from the Men. He had made roast and baked savoury pies, along with platters of cheese and bread and bite-sized bits of meat, and from the smell Billa could tell that there was something sweet baking nearby.

The dining room itself was both cosy and with enough space to let the company gather around and be comfortable.

“The family’s big,” Bofur had told her with a wink when she noticed and said how good it was that Bombur happened to choose a house with such a room.

“And tha’s not even the biggest kitchen in his house, just his favourite for working alone.”

Billa was the first to arrive with Fíli and Kíli, along with Óin who insisted that he needed to be near if the princes were to leave their beds. Bombur immediately gave them plates, telling them to take whatever they wished to eat, before going to fetch even more.

It was nice to have a party with the Dwarves and not be responsible for the food or the place, so Billa didn’t feel too bad about the prospect of trashing the place. Not that this was what everyone was in the mood for.

As far as parties among Dwarves seemed to go, this one was a calm one, though by no means quiet. 

The brothers Ri arrived a little later, carrying bottles of mead and wine and they were greeted with loud cheer and then everyone set to drink, starting to sing now that they were more.

Dori smiled at Billa when he saw her, and grabbed her shoulders to pull her closer and gingerly tapping his forehead against hers.

“You look wonderful, my little Lady”, he told her, and Billa laughed at that.

It was he and his brothers who had made her look like she did that day. The light blue tunic with the blocky flower embroidery and a dress of thick grey material made her clothes look rather Dwarvish, and Nori had braided her hair in a way that was suitable for a Hobbit, but had some of the finesse of what Dwarves preferred.

Nori and Bofur proceeded to open up bottles, making everyone drink their share, and then there was more cheer and yelling when Glóin arrived, shaking snow off his coat and opening his arms wide to welcome anyone who was up for a scuffle, which Billa managed to avoid. 

Balin was the next, sitting next to Billa on the chair she pulled up for him, thanking her and explaining that he wouldn’t stay all night.

“There are still some things I’ll have to organize for your big day tomorrow,” he told her with a wink before reaching for the bread.

Whatever it was Balin was doing for the coronation to go smoothly, Billa had no idea. She had barely heard anything of the planning; she did not know how the ‘stage’ was prepared. She only knew was that the coronation would take place outside of Erebor’s gates, rather than in the throne room as she would have expected, mainly because it was easier to make the outside presentable than the abandoned halls. 

The evening went on perfectly, every few minutes somebody wanted to toast to Billa, and then everyone had to drink. Bombur eventually had to be forced to sit down and eat, as he seemed to prefer checking on each of his still baking and cooking dishes.

Bofur got out his flute to start a tune, and Bifur grabbed one of the nearly empty bowls of fruit and started to play him a matching drumbeat. Everyone else seemed to see it as their duty to teach Billa all of the classical drinking songs.

“She’s the Queen, she’ll need to do the old classics!” Glóin demanded, only to be whacked by his brother.

“The Queen should have no need for these particular ones!” Óin told him.

“She’ll be in situations when it’ll be relevant.”

“What, seedy taverns in the red districts? Our Queen won’t be visiting them.”

“Why wouldn’t she, all of us go drinking down there as well, brother.”

“A thing your missus will love to find out.”

“Oi, come now, you know full well that me wife’s joining me there,” Glóin protested to the amusement of everyone else. 

Billa giggled, feeling the warmth of the mulled wine Bombur had made spread in her body. She had never met Glóin’s wife, but now everyone was singing praise to her, as well as to Bombur’s.

Fíli wrapped his hands around his cup of wine, smiling wistfully at Bofur.

“If I could concentrate again, I’d play you the violin,” he stated, “always goes well with these songs.”

Everyone agreed about how that would have been nice, and beside Billa Nori raised his own bottle of mead.

“Dwalin could play us, once he’s finally free to join us.”

Again, everyone agreed and Billa glanced at Balin.

“He’s still making sure that Thorin is fine and not doing too much the healers wouldn’t approve of.”

“King-sitting, bloody waste of time,” Nori muttered into the bottle before taking a swig.

Soon it was time for preparing the sweeter dishes, and when Bombur disappeared into the kitchen Billa got up to follow him, eager to help and glad to be able to walk a little before having even more of the delicious things he prepared.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked cheerfully when she joined him, and Bombur nodded, pointing at where some pastries were cooling near the ovens.

“You can help with taking the pies of the griddle? And making icing?”

Those tasks were easy enough, and Billa happily set to work, after finding a bag of sugar, the jugs with apple juice and a bowl. It was easy enough and she had missed it a little. 

Bombur worked silently in his own corner, switching baked and raw pastries in his oven, assembled cakes and carried them out, only to return and turn to the next thing.

In one of the brief moments he was out, Bofur slipped into the kitchen, smiled at Billa and leaned against the counter near her. He fiddled with his pipe, but didn’t lit it, choosing to just watch Billa brush frosting over the little cakes. Once his little brother returned and glared at it, Bofur grinned and put the pipe away, but still didn’t leave.

“You’re a good cook,” he commented and gestured at what she was doing. “The things in your house were quite tasty as well.”

“Oh, I’m just as good as any Hobbit needs to be,” Billa laughed, “We love our food too much to be bad cooks.”

Bofur looked at her face, searching, and there was something serious about him.

“What is it?” she asked, wondering what might have put the miner into that mood.

“Oh, just…” Bofur’s smile returned and put dimples on his cheeks.

“I’m glad that you’re truly happy here, in Erebor. As the Queen and with us.”

Billa put down her bowl, looking up at him. Behind them Bombur paused in his work for a moment, to take the time to smile at Billa as well, but then he was busy again, while Bofur didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you not liking it here, or staying but being unhappy. I would have carried you to the Shire myself if that was the case.”

“Bofur, I _am_ happy though-“

“I know, lass,” Bofur reassured her, and put his hands on her shoulders.

“You’ll be a magnificent Queen, and I am proud to have you as part of my kin.”

He leaned his face closer, and then his forehead was resting against Billa’s. He stayed like that for a few moments and when he let go there was only a little of the solemnness left on his face and he was laughing again.

“The little honorary Hobbit sister of all the company! Or auntie, in out foolish princes’ case.”

Billa nearly started sputtering at that, but she was touched by him calling her sister. She had considered the company her family, had heard how Kíli and Fíli joked that she was their aunt. But she really was, wasn’t she? Dwarves did not usually seem to consider strangers friends, much less family, and here she was, with all of her friends loving her as if she was.

She wanted to reply, but outside the voices grew louder and Billa heard how everyone was welcoming another guest. It wasn’t that late yet, so Dwalin shouldn’t be joining yet, but there was nobody else the company was still waiting for.

Billa threw a questioning look at Bofur, but he just shrugged and Bombur didn’t pay any attention to the clamour at all.

As she peeked into the room to check, it truly was Dwalin standing in front of the table, glaring, and waiting for the cheer and the questions to stop. Billa wasn’t sure what exactly seemed to be the matter, so she just silently returned to her chair and sat down between Balin and Nori, waiting for an explanation. 

“Really, it is not like Thorin to choose to return from his trip into the city early,” Balin was just saying, and Dwalin scoffed.

“He didn’t choose, and there’ll be no more running to the workshops at least. He’s done.”

“What do you mean he didn’t choose?” Billa asked cautiously. She still didn’t know what exactly Thorin had been up to, and now Dwalin was shifting where he was standing, visibly uncomfortable about having to say what he was about to.

“He went off on his own and by the time I noticed and got some healers to drag him back to his sickbed he was done with his work. He won’t have a reason to go down any longer.”

There was some muttering but Billa tensed at the words, staring up at the Dwarf.

“What do you mean… drag? On his own? But how did he get to do that? He promised he wouldn’t go anywhere without help! Why didn’t you stop him?”

Dwalin had been annoyed by needing to look after Thorin while he did whatever it was, but he had always made sure that Thorin was in company, just as the healers had asked for. It wasn’t like him to let Thorin go alone.

The company was silent, watching Dwalin and all of them aware of what Billa thought as well. 

Dwalin looked nearly sheepish, despite his otherwise thunderous expression, and his eyes were fixed on a point slightly besides Billa.

“Thorin decided that me being late is an excuse to get away on his own. He didn’t want to waste any time.”

“Late?” Glóin’s voice was nearly a laugh. “How did you manage that?”

Dwalin’s frown deepened.

“I overslept.”

That earned him the entire company’s laughter and teasing, but next to Billa Balin muttered something incoherent and Nori let out a soft groan.

Dwalin’s blunder didn’t mean anything to Billa, and she did not care for making fun of him for it. But he had said that Thorin had been down in the city of Erebor on his own. Even though he had promised to never do that, even though Billa had asked him not to do anything the healers would consider overdoing it.

Balin said something about how he would have to talk to Thorin about such behaviour later, but otherwise the company was only commenting on how stubborn he was, and teasing Dwalin, who’s cheeks seemed to be flushing in anger.

Billa didn’t even listen to what they were saying anymore, just quickly and silently stood up and scurried past the table and towards the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” she muttered as heads turned and Dwalin threw her an apologetic look, then she was out of the house and near running through the streets of the empty living quarters of Erebor.

Billa didn’t know what she expected to find. Dwalin would have said if something had happened to Thorin, or if he actually did overwork himself and did something he shouldn’t have with his near healed ribs and his wounds. There had still been the danger of it though.

The house was so quiet without Fíli and Kíli there, and the healers must have left already, and the only noise Billa heard upon entering was the fire burning in the corner and warming the room.

Thorin’s bedchamber was well lit by lamps, and the first thing Billa saw was Thorin sitting propped against the pillows and sulking.

“Why?” she asked, not giving Thorin any time to register her presence or come up with something to tell her. “Why did you decide to do what _everyone_ asked you to _not_ do?”

At least Thorin had the sense to look guilty as he bowed his head.

“It needed a finishing touch and I could not wait,” he whispered. “I needed to be done before the coronation.”

“You should have! What if something had happened? What if you had pulled your stitches or… or damaged your ribs? You still can hurt yourself too much, there would have been no coronation for you to attend then, and even more sickbed or…”

The memory of how much Billa had feared that Thorin might yet die was too fresh on her mind, and she firmly pushed the wave of old anxiety aside. She climbed onto the bed, taking Thorin’s hands and frowned.

“There was no danger,” Thorin promised, trying a reassuring smile that didn’t convince Billa at all.

“I know my limits, and the work I was doing only has me sitting and working with my hands, with no strength needed.”

“What can be that important?”

“You will see very soon, I promise,” Thorin said, and lifted one of Billa’s hands to his mouth to kiss it.

She let him hold it for a few moments before pulling away and leaning closer, hands gently running over Thorin’s chest where his shirt was unlaced and revealed skin and bandages underneath. He barely even needed them any longer, she knew that, but they still reminded her of his wounds constantly.

“I’m still too worried about you,” she said. 

She would have pulled her hands away then, too afraid to hurt him as always, but Thorin’s hand covered hers so she left them where they were.

“I am sorry for all the grief I’m causing you, my heart,” Thorin whispered and leaned his forehead against Billa’s, their noses bumping together awkwardly.

She adjusted her head, but then just ended up rubbing her nose against his, leaning against Thorin. His arm wrapped around her waist, warm, even through the thick material of her dress.

“It’s nothing, just worry.”

Only a head tilt stood between her and getting a kiss, so Billa did just that, first a soft peck to Thorin’s lips, and then she deepened it, feeling how Thorin pulled her closer and running her palms over his broad chest as his lips parted under hers.

They were both slightly breathless when they parted, and Billa adjusted how she was sitting, her skirts skidding up slightly. She somehow was very aware of how much time had passed since they had last slept together, on the last day they had spent in Laketown.

It hadn’t been a good idea with the injuries Thorin had gotten, and before there just hadn’t been the right mood… Now, if they were both gentle and slow, it wouldn’t be too bad, Thorin didn’t seem to have any pain from taking deeper breaths at least…

“Billa,” Thorin whined as her hands slid lower and she kissed his cheek. “are you sure you want to know…”

His hands didn’t move, and Billa could see how he was visibly holding back from doing anything, where he usually had responded to each of the touches she initiated. 

“Are you in pain?” Billa asked, worried about being the one to cause harm after so much time of trying to prevent it.

“No,” Thorin replied, though it did sound pained. “We are getting crowned tomorrow. You… the official wedding is tomorrow as well, I don’t think this would be proper, I wouldn’t want you to…”

Billa’s laugh nearly startled him, with how loud it was after their whispering conversation. 

“Thorin! Thorin, didn’t everyone say that we _are_ married by all laws? And you didn’t seem to mind when we fucked in the Mirkwood time after time.”

Thorin’s cheeks reddened and he looked away, muttering something about not being truly King bound by propriety. Billa smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek, and then nuzzled against his side.

“You are my husband. And even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t care about being proper the night before the official wedding.”

And finally Thorin relaxed, smiling at her with the warmth in his eyes that always made her heart jump. He kissed her, and then his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her along as he let himself sink back into the pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'3 sorry for the delay, I got distracted by another fan fiction
> 
> oh, and the reason for Dwalin being late is in this side story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1002821/chapters/3849733


	15. Chapter 15

There was only the softness of the blankets and her face pressed into the furs. It was warm and nothing disturbed her sleep. Once or twice Billa wasn’t sure whether she was still dreaming or not. There was the sound of wood being stacked in a fireplace, and rustling of sheets and a soft voice telling her that they’d meet later.

When Billa finally woke up she was a little disoriented at first. The room was unfamiliar, and she couldn’t remember why there were so many furs and pillows on the bed.

“Are you awake?”

The memory of the previous night returned in the time it took Billa to turn her head and see Ori standing at the foot of the bed, pointedly looking away from her. 

“Oh, yes of course,” Billa muttered, and made sure that she was covered to her neck. “Is it time to get up?”

The thought of going to her coronation made her nervous, but she would manage, just as anything else. 

“Yes, Dori wanted me to bring you the dress. And then we will go to meet him, and he and Nori will help with your hair.”

He put down the clothes on the end of the bed, then stepped out of the door but still remained within earshot.

“He said you’d be here…”

Billa’s cheeks reddened and she quickly climbed out of bed, and towards the corner where a basin and some brushes had been placed.

“Oh? Did he now.”

“He said we shouldn’t stay up and wait for you. You missed out though, Dori is really annoyed about something Nori did, and now Nori is grounded.”

Billa pulled a comb through her curls, frowning at Ori chatting about it.

“How can Nori be grounded?”

“It just means that Dori won’t let him out of sight for a while, so he won’t run off to drink with the soldiers or spent the entire night outside. And Nori doesn’t want to fight so he resigned himself to it for now.”

Billa dunked cloth into the water and started washing herself quickly.

“Usually Nori just runs off if he wants to. I guess he’ll find himself some tiny place soon, somewhere nobody will bother him in once Erebor is settled again.”

The dress was easy to put on herself, it was simple, and only the materials and the layered textures on the outside made it look beautiful. The embroidery was in silver and one of the most delicate ones Billa had ever seen.

It was an ice blue material, with parts of the sleeves and around her waist set off by dark blue velvet, and it suited her very well.

“Are you done?” Ori asked, as he didn’t get any replies for a while.

He glanced into the room cautiously, smiling as he saw the dress on Billa. 

“It is beautiful! Your brothers did a wonderful work with it!”

Ori tugged at the material, helping Billa to adjust it. Then he reached inside his coat and pulled out another bundle. As he unwrapped it Billa saw the glitter of the mail shirt Thorin had given her, cleaned and polished and beautiful and light as always.

“Here, put that on as well.”

Billa frowned and shook her head. 

“Why not?”

“It’s _armour_ , Ori. It’s lovely but do you really expect me to need armour at a coronation and wedding? It’s not a battle.”

Ori looked at her puzzled, as if he saw no connection between dressing for battle and putting on the mithril shirt. He did not put the shirt down, still holding it out to Billa, so she sighed, took it and carefully put it over her dress. It was a shame to hide most of Dori’s work that way, but the shirt was beautiful at least, and what was visible of the dress was very obviously still lovely to look at.

Once that was done Ori beamed at her and grabbed her wrist. 

“Beautiful, but we need to go now! The coronation will start as soon as both you and Thorin are ready, and lets not make Mister Glóin win his bet in saying we’ll be late!”

He led her out of the halls and towards the gates, but instead of turning into the way that led directly to the main gate, Ori turned right. They didn’t go very far after that, and soon they were greeted by Ori’s brothers, as well as Bofur, Bombur and Bifur.

“You look lovely lass!” Bofur told her as soon as Billa was pushed into their middle. 

Dori beamed in pride, and then he and Nori made her sit down on a stool.

“Let us take care of these curls then,” Dori said, before they set to work.

“What did you want to do?” Billa asked, now a little nervous. She wasn’t sure whether she really wanted to take part in such a public event with a hairstyle as complicated as Dori’s yet. She’d feel ridiculous.

“Just a few braids to keep your hair out of your face. It’s windy outside, and we don’t want to make a mess of this, do we now?”

Dori hummed cheerfully, though Nori seemed to be half pouting. 

As they worked, Billa took the time to take in what the others were wearing. Bofur and Bombur had dressed themselves in armour similar to the one she had seen on them during the battle, only polished and much finer than that one. 

Nori had done the same, only that his armour was a very light one, nearly non-existent compared to the heavy ones Dwarves seemed to favour, and though it was polished the dark metal did not shine as pretty as the others’. Dori had picked a fur coat and velvet, all looking very fine and making him seem very regal, but Billa caught a glimpse of polished chainmail even on him.

Only Bifur and Ori hadn’t picked that, Bifur dressed in his preferred leather outfit and Ori wrapped in scarves and a warm cloak. Perhaps it was tradition to wear the best armour if you were a warrior? That way Billa didn’t feel quite as out of place with the mithril shirt as she had before seeing this.

Once Billa’s hair was done, Dori and Nori stepped back, and smiled at her. They had braided the hair on the sides of her head to lie tight against her scalp, but they still had left her curls free to bounce about her shoulders.

“You look very much like a Queen,” Dori told her, and then Bifur stepped up and gently wrapped a dark blue cloak with fur lining around her shoulders, and Nori fastened a brooch over her chest. 

“Are you ready?”

Billa smiled gratefully and nodded. Dori tugged a little at the coat, to make sure it was truly covering her, and then he and Bifur stood on either side of her and started walking towards the gates. 

The first she saw was the glittering white of the snowy fields all around the mountain. It looked beautiful in its purity, covering the ash of the desolation and the battle, and in the winter day all even looked as if nothing bad had ever happened.

Rows of warriors stood on the grounds before the gates, impressive in their order and with their armour gleaming prettily in the sun. The first time Billa had seen them, it was right before a battle, and they had looked fearsome and impressive, though now the army spoke of glory and strength.

She could see Men, and Elves, a little further back and there were few of them, closer to the gates but also standing at the very side. All were looking towards her, and there were trumpets blowing a crisp and clear sound, announcing that both the King and Queen had now arrived.

A little walkway had been prepared and decorated with banners, leading down to a pedestal just high enough for everyone to see. 

Balin stood closest, smiling up at Billa as she was led down, wearing a thick fur coat and copper chains around his neck and over his shoulders, holding some parchments in his hands. Dáin was beside him, wearing his regalia of a lord of the Iron Hills, and by his side stood the rest of the company, on a place of honour.

Billa came closer and each step made her more nervous, though it wasn’t _bad_ at all. Before her were her friends, and that was calming enough, and her husband awaited her.

When they stepped onto the platform, Bifur and Dori moved away from her, joining the company and leaving her to cross the distance towards Thorin on her own.

Balin and Dáin smiled at her, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, and Dwalin, who stood closest, bowed his head as she walked by.

And Thorin…

He had never looked as radiant as today, she thought, as her husband King smiled and reached out with one hand. All decked in furs and an armour that seemed simple, as his last had been, but shone and was decorated in the most intricate engravings and decked with tiny blue and white jewels. 

Billa’s hand felt small as she placed it into Thorin’s rough one, slid over calloused skin and polished rings and squeezed slightly.

“My lord husband,” she said, smiling, and curtsied. 

Thorin’s lips twitched, and he bowed deeply before her, for all to see.

“Queen of my heart,” he replied. 

The musicians ended their tune with one last bright sound, and then Balin stepped before the Dwarf King and the Hobbit Burglar, and started his speech.

Billa had promised herself that she would listen, that Balin’s speech had been made for her after all. Her hand was still in Thorin’s and he was smiling down on her. She smiled back and then turned to glance at the company, see the joy in their faces and their happiness that the quest now truly was completed.

As her eyes skimmed over each of them, she noticed something gleaming in the sun above them. Not knowing what it was, Billa raised her head and look up towards where the stone had been craved into walls and beautiful designs centuries ago.

What she saw wasn’t the green rock everything was decorated in though, but a wall of silver and white light, sparkling in the rising winter sun.

At first Billa couldn’t quite understand what it was, and then she saw that it was ice. A solid layer covered the walls and the carved stone warriors. All of it had been cut and broken just so that the sunlight would catch and reflect at random points. None of it looked as if it had been done like the fine and neatly cut gems Billa had seen before, but it seemed like the only purpose had been to make it shine.

She knew that she must be gaping, and she felt Thorin’s hands tug on hers lightly.

“Do you like it?” he whispered quietly enough to not be heard, and for nobody to see how he was speaking.

Billa glanced from him to the wall of light and then back to him.

“Is that… _You_ did this?”

“Not me. I simply ordered for the ice to be made beautiful, should it be possible. We have no ribbons but I thought this would be good as well?”

Billa stared at his clear blue eyes watching her, then she let out a small laugh and a puff of white cloud of air.

“It is beautiful,” she sighed, and couldn’t help but glance back at it more than at was going on with her own wedding and coronation.

Now and then she thought she could see patterns in the light. Here it seemed like it was flowers spreading over one of the warrior’s stone faces, there the way the light broke around one of the pillars it looked like branches and a tree growing in the ice.

“And thus, I give you Thorin II, King of Erebor and Heir of Durin, highest Lord amongst the Longbeards! And I give you Billa Baggins, Queen of the Lonely Mountain and Child of the kindly West, Lady of Durin’s folk and Dwarf friend!”

Billa nearly startled at the loud proclamation, and there was a loud cheer going through the ranks, and cries of ‘aye’. Balin turned to Thorin and fixed a brooch on his furs quickly, then Thorin stepped closer to Billa and slipped something on her hand while Balin gestured to someone behind them.

“The Consort’s ring,” Thorin said, gently wrapping his fingers around hers. “Not a symbol of power, but rather a symbol of marrying into our line. I had it fitted for you.”

Billa glanced down at it. On her middle finger there was a broad band of silver, with carvings and a faint glimmer of blue visible through the cracks of the edged in rune. On her little finger there was a smaller band, two intertwined metals, silver and copper, with little gems set over where fine chains connected both rings in a way that would not bother her in hand movements.

Before she could thank him for it, Balin arrived, and he held a crown in his hands. It was massive and dark, polished to a gleam and Billa could see the symbols that looked like ravens in flights she had seen all around Erebor worked into it. Thorin bowed his head and let the old advisor place it on his brow. 

Billa’s cheeks nearly hurt from all the smiling she was doing, but she could not help it. She was glad that Thorin had lived to see this day, glad that the mountain and its people had their King and a home. Most of all she was glad that Thorin was alive with _her_ , her husband and dear friend.

The yells from the Dwarves were near deafening once Thorin stood straight, and turned to face them with his crown on his head, the first King to wear Erebor’s crown for a century. 

Thorin raised his hand and shouted something in the language of Dwarves, earning him even louder yelling from the army. Then he turned to the Hobbit and the noise ebbed off once more.

“And now,” he said, loud and clear for everyone to hear each word “I would honour my Lady, my Queen and the hero without whom we would not stand here today.”

“It is my honour to be the one to place the crown of Erebor upon the brow of my beloved and the Queen of my people.”

Billa felt a blush creep into her cheeks, and she chuckled nervously. Everyone was silent and their eyes were fixed on just her now, she could tell. She tried not to fidget under so much attention, and wished that she wouldn’t do something embarrassing, like stumble or flinch under the weight of the crown. She could only hope that the Consort’s wasn’t as big and heavy as the King’s looked.

But when Fíli stepped up slowly and carefully taking his steps, he was holding a thin wooden casket, that wasn’t deep enough for such a crown.

Thorin lifted something out of it gently, and then he turned to Billa.

She gasped when she saw it. 

Where Thorin’s crown was dark and massive, this one was made of light metals and looked near fragile. The main shapes were just as Thorin’s, but everything was thinner, and there were tiny treads of silver winding themselves through everything, and white gems were assembled so that they reminded Billa of snowflakes or flowers.

Chains hung from that crown, their links tapping together and making a soft clanging sound as Thorin moved it. If Billa hadn’t know better she might have called the crown’s design near Elvish, but it did fit with everything the Dwarves were wearing, and it was like a Hobbit maid might choose to wear as well, even if it was to pompous for any occasion Billa might think of for the Shire.

Then, a coronation was not something that happened among Hobbits much after all.

Thorin’s hands where gentle as they placed the crown on Billa’s head, and adjusted the chains so that they were laid out over her curls and trailed over her back.

“This crown I made with my own hands, and only the Hobbit Lady, Consort of Thorin Oakenshield may ever wear it!”

And then he bowed down to her and the clamour rose, louder than before, with the clatter of shields being smashed against the hard ground and it took Billa several moments to realize that they were calling her name, praising her as the Queen.

It was all so unreal, the shouts, their gleaming armour and the light of the ice behind her, the cheering of her friends, the soft ringing of her crown and the crisp winter air all about them. For a few moments Billa felt as if her head was spinning, and then Thorin was there.

“My Queen, my beloved,” he said and smiled.

Billa’s eyes flickered over to where the Men stood, for a moment, and they too were cheering her, and even the Elves seemed to be. For one second Billa thought that she saw Gandalf, too far away to be sure, but he was smiling at her, and in the next moment she lost him out of sight and just focused on Thorin.

“My King,” she replied, and he grinned down at her and with the lights and the cheers all around them Billa stood on her toes, curled her arms around Thorin’s neck and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And   
> The End
> 
>  
> 
> thank you _thank you_ to everyone who stuck around for this story :'3 this was the first multichaptered fic I have ever written (and completed, wow) and it certainly was a great experience! And also good to know that I _can_ write longer fics =u=

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my lovely beta Inja and everyone who helped me with their opinions or listening to me trying to figure out a plot ^^ 
> 
> the original prompt is here http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4373.html?thread=9753365#t11141141


End file.
